Heartlines
by ladycobert
Summary: Cora and Robert travel to Venice, leading to a surprise when they return home.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This story will be multiple chapters, many of them being M-rated but not all. More will be added as I write them... The title is from a Florence and the Machine song, which contains one of my favorite lines ever: Your heart is the only place that I call home. Thank you to GranthamGal for suggesting this oh-so-perfect title!

* * *

Late October, 1921

"Oh, Robert, everything is so beautiful!" Cora exclaimed, her eyes wide and trying to take in every detail.

Robert and Cora Crawley, Earl and Countess of Grantham, had just boarded the Orient Express to Venice in France. They had made the journey from Downton to London, and from London to France – the latter on the luxury British Pullman cars. The trip to Venice had been a birthday surprise from Robert to Cora, and, although her birthday had been in July, they had only just now found the time to take an extended trip.

Hand in hand the couple followed the steward down the train passage on the way to the cabin that would be theirs for the duration of their trip on the Orient Express. Cora had always wanted to travel on the famous train, and she was not disappointed.

"It is beautiful," Robert agreed. "We are going to enjoy this, I think."

The steward stopped in front of a first class cabin, and Robert listened while he explained where everything was and how things worked. Cora stood half listening and half staring in a very unladylike manner at everything around them, keeping her hand in her husband's. No matter how long she had been Countess of Grantham, no matter that she had been an heiress and familiar with the life accompanying that, she seemed to maintain her sense of wonder when she came across anything new and different.

Robert glimpsed her face, which seemed caught in an awestruck spell, and marveled all over again how his sophisticated, refined wife could display such child-like curiosity and appreciation for such things. It was one of the things he loved about her. He smiled, happy that he could make her happy, before turning his attention again to the steward.

After the steward's explanations, Robert attempted to tip him, whereupon the steward told him with utmost politeness that this was done at the end of the journey. So Robert thanked and dismissed him, shutting himself and his wife into the tiny space together.

"Well? What do you think? Do you like it?" he asked, knowing full well by her expression that she loved all of it.

"It's incredible, darling. I can't believe we're actually here and taking a trip on the Orient Express!" she said, excitedly.

Robert pulled his wife closer to him and kissed her cheek. "Happy birthday, my dear." Letting go of her hand, he took off his own coat and hat and then helped her with hers.

Cora sat down, leaning back against the cushions. "Aren't you going to give me any hints about what you have planned for us while we're in Venice?" She grinned at him and patted the seat beside her.

Robert sat next to her and took her hand in his, kissing it. "Not one hint, Cora. It's all a surprise." He smiled. "I've already ordered tea to be brought to us here. What do you want to do for dinner? Dine here or in the dining car?"

"Oh, good, tea. I'm ravenous, darling. As for dinner…." She thought a moment. "It's a difficult decision. On the one hand there is the fascination of seeing everyone and everything in the dining car…." Her eyes shone. "And on the other, there is the most wonderful prospect of having dinner here. And having you all to myself, away from prying eyes." Her eyes shining with a bit more mischief at this.

Chuckling at his wife's penchant for the sort of mischief she enjoyed "away from prying eyes," Robert put a gentle hand on her knee. "You decide, my dear. We have two nights on the train, and we will do whatever you wish. Since it's your birthday trip."

Cora put her hand over top of the one he had on her knee. "I think I'd like you all to myself tonight," she said in a low voice, all but waggling her eyebrows at him.

He grinned at her. "I would like that very much, Cora."

A knock came at the door, and Robert got up to open it and bring in an elaborate tea tray. Cora clasped her hands together, crying out, "Tea cakes!" Her husband looked at her curiously, but shook his head with a laugh and served her tea and cakes.

She ate almost all the tea cakes by herself.

"Careful or you won't be able to eat dinner, my dear!" Robert laughed.

Staring at the empty tray in astonishment, she wiped her mouth with her serviette. "I don't know what's come over me lately. I'm _always_ hungry."

Robert took her hand and kissed it again. "You have just as much as you want, Cora. This trip is your gift, and I want you to be happy."

Cora put down her teacup and gave him a most tender look. "I am happy, Robert. Are you?"

By way of answering her, he pulled her closer and clasped both of her hands in his, gazed at her in open adoration, then gave her a long, lingering kiss. Then he pulled back, smiled, and said, "The only true happiness I know is when you are happy."

Tears came to Cora's eyes at this statement, and she gave him a wide smile, kissing him in return, taking his hands and pulling them around her waist. She felt quite intoxicated in being such a small space with him, the scent of his cologne, the rocking of the train, the luxuriousness of the cabin… and his words to her. How far they had come since they had been first married and she had treasured up any genuine smiles, unguarded looks, intimate glances, or loving gestures from the man she so wanted to share her life – all of it – with. "The only true happiness I know is when you are happy." She wanted to write it on her heart and seal it with… a kiss? No, much more than a kiss.

"Robert," she breathed in his ear as his lips began to travel slowly, deliberately, from her jawline to her throat.

"Mmmmm…" was his only answer, his concentration evident. He wanted her to know the truth, the feeling behind the words he had spoken. For he had not spoken them frivolously. Robert meant them with every fiber of his being, knew that nothing in his life was as important as Cora, the creature he had come to adore, even if he fell short of always appreciating her as he should. He knew it and wanted to make this trip as marvelous for her as he possibly could – to make up for all the times that he had _not_ appreciated her as he knew she deserved.

Moving her hands over his chest, Cora parted Robert's jacket a little more in order to find his nipples through his shirt, running her thumbs across them gently. A guttural noise escaped his throat, before he lifted his head for a moment to exclaim, "Good God, Cora…."

Robert held her eyes with his, and she grinned at the look in them she knew and loved so well. Cora moved her eyes down his body and nearly giggled at the affect she'd already produced in him. He merely tugged at his jacket, throwing it on the floor of the cabin, and placed his hands on her face, kissing her with an intensified yearning. He gradually guided her to lean back upon the seat, his hands roaming over her body.

Somehow, feeling the motion of the train through the seat upon which she reclined heightened her desire, made what her husband was doing to her that much more powerful. She began to wriggle a little beneath him as he fondled her breasts through her dress and ran his hand along her inner thigh. Robert noticed her squirming and whispered a question in her ear, "What do you want, Cora?"

As he lifted his head to look at her, she blushed furiously and lowered her lashes. After all these years, he had come to recognize that look. He gave her a brief nod and a grin before putting his lips next to her ear again, "Your slightest wish is my command, my love."

With that he kissed her again, as he divested her of undergarments and threw those on top of his jacket. When he'd done that, he gazed into her eyes for a long moment before placing his lips and hands on her ankles, working leisurely, tenderly with his mouth and fingers along her calves and up to her thighs, endeavoring to venerate every centimeter of her velvety skin. As he ran tongue and hands up farther, she began fidgeting again, and Robert smiled at this. Finally he placed his hands on her bottom, and touched her with his tongue. She responded immediately, crying out involuntarily and arching herself upward. Feeling himself reacting in kind to her pleasure, he tried to put it out of his head for the moment, wanting so much for Cora to know how much her desires meant to him. He wanted to put her first.

Cora thought she might leave her body, she was feeling such extreme sensations at the attentions her husband was bestowing upon her. Her body bent without her consent, and her mind couldn't form an intelligible thought. All was craving, longing, desire – and the only person who knew how to give her what she needed was him. Emotionally, mentally, and physically, they were linked in a way she only partly understood. And at the moment didn't care to understand….

She shuddered as he began to use his fingers as well as his tongue, the combination driving her nearly insane. In a matter of moments Robert felt her twitch in a manner he knew so well, and it was all he could do not to be pushed over the edge himself. She breathed deeply and then sighed contentedly. "Robert," she said. "Robert." Then she sat up and took his face in her hands, covering it with feathery kisses, then kissing his lips in earnest.

"My darling," he whispered, running his hands down her back.

Cora stood up and drew him up with her, and with a coy smile unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it down his shoulders and onto the growing pile of discarded garments on the floor. She guided his hands to her dress, and within moments he was taking in the sight of a delightfully naked Cora in front of him. "Now…" she said, and knelt in front of him, as he put his hand on the wall for support as the train steadily rocked. She very slowly unbuttoned and removed his trousers, her eyes glazing over a bit as she saw how aroused he was.

"Goodness. I think someone might need some attention of his own." Without another word, Cora rid him of his last garment, and, making sure the door to the cabin was securely locked, she directed Robert to sit down on the seat, as she crawled between his legs. She looked into his eyes as she wrapped a hand around him.

Robert felt his eyes go up into the back of his head. He wanted to say her name, but couldn't form even that word. He leaned back against the seat as she wove her spell over him, adding mouth to hands, but soon he felt that he might not be able to wait much longer, and moaned out, "Cora, please…"

She knew that moan. She grinned and stood in front of him. "Robert?"

He looked up at her, then down her body and up again, feeling all the while like a suppliant in front of a goddess. And then the train gave a violent rock, pitching her forward, onto his lap. "Well. That's one way to do it," she laughed.

Nibbling gently on her ear, he whispered, "What would you like?"

Cora blushed again and buried her head in his neck. Then she responded, very softly, "I want to be close to you. I don't care how."

Placing a finger under her chin, he lifted her head gently and looked into her eyes. "I'm right here."

She smiled before moving herself around so that she was hovering just above him. Cora placed her lips on his as she took him into her. She slowly moved up and down, watching his face reflect his pleasure.

"Cora," he sighed, rubbing her behind as she moved against him. "My love, my all…" He closed his eyes and let her take control, as she appeared to want to do. It wasn't long before he was involuntarily driving himself up to meet her, holding her by the hips and moaning.

Using one hand to play with his nipples each in turn, Cora traced the contours of his face, his lips, with the other. Finally she could hold on no longer and slumped against him, panting. A few more strokes later, and he groaned deeply, pulling her against him and becoming motionless.

Cora held him close to her, feeling their hearts racing together. As they both calmed, Robert kept one arm wrapped around her, and with the other held her own hand. After a few moments, Cora shifted against him and took his hand in both of hers, following the lines on his palm with one of her fingers. "Your heartline," she said, indicating one of them. "It's nearly identical to mine." She put her hand next to his so he could see.

Robert wasn't sure he knew exactly what she was on about, but he liked the implication. "Does it mean we're meant to be?"

She looked up at him with a smile. "I don't know if that's what they mean, but I am certain that we are meant to be."


	2. Chapter 2

23 October 1921

Cora gasped, sitting up so suddenly that she almost fell off the narrow berth of the compartment. She cast her eyes down beside her where Robert was still sleeping soundly – so soundly he was snoring louder than the train – between her and the train wall. Both berths had been made up for them, but Cora had moved over to sleep next to her husband at some point in the night. Not used to the sounds and movement of the train, she had had trouble sleeping and thought slumber would find her easier next to Robert. However slumber had eluded her until the wee small hours. Even then she hadn't slept very well, being restless and having strange dreams.

Swinging her legs over the side of the berth, Cora stood up a little unsteadily and took the few steps to the other one. She realized she was a trifle too warm and Robert's snoring far too loud to allow her to try sleeping next to him again. She curled up on the berth and pulled a pillow over her ear, leaving the bedclothes off so she could cool down. Endeavoring to ignore the snores that assailed her ears even through the pillow, Cora struggled to remember the particulars of that last lengthy and vivid dream. It was this dream that had awakened her so abruptly, and it had been an interesting one. She wanted to etch the details on her mind so she could tell it to Robert later.

"Confound it," Cora murmured, uncharacteristically. After she had fixed the dream in her memory, she found she could not go back to sleep. She wondered when the steward would knock on their door and ask why there was a motor car running in their compartment. Sitting up and tucking her legs up under her nightdress, she looked over at Robert and understood immediately why it was so loud; he had rolled onto his back after she left his berth earlier, causing him to snore even more. A crease formed between her eyes. He snored like this only when he'd had too much Scotch, but she didn't remember his drinking that much. She shrugged and looked around the compartment, longing for him to wake up so she could tell him her dream.

As she watched him, Robert twitched in his sleep, his own snoring appearing to bother him. After a short while, he threw one of his arms back behind his head, banging it rather hard on a fixture. "Bloody hell," he muttered, opening his eyes. It took less than a minute for him to realize that Cora was no longer sleeping next to him, and he turned his head, smiling when he saw her perched on the other berth. He sat up, unable to suppress a large yawn.

"Cora, why are you up so early?" He looked at his pocket watch hanging on its special hook over his berth. "It's barely five o'clock."

She lifted her shoulders briefly in a shrug. "I didn't sleep very well, and I awakened from a strange dream. Then I couldn't get back to sleep because someone - and I mention no names - was snoring louder than the train." She chuckled.

"They were? I hope you removed them from our cabin." Robert winked at her before continuing in a more serious voice. "I'm sorry, darling. After you fell asleep last night, I couldn't, so I went to the bar car for a while. I fear I drank a little too much." He lowered his eyes.

If he was honest, Robert had meant to drink a little too much.

It so happened that he and Cora had discussed it and had decided they wanted to be completely alone on their trip. The two had learned enough about helping one another dress – and undress – over the years, they concluded that they could do without valet or lady's maid for two weeks. The recent changes in fashion had certainly been on their side in this respect as well. Robert wasn't sure he had the patience to help with a corset twice or more a day.

But then Robert had seen the looks that the porters and stewards had given them when he told them that they were traveling without lady's maid or valet. Oh, they had tried to hide the looks – an Earl does as he likes – but their surprise left many of their faces unguarded long enough for Robert to see flickers of shock or disapproval cross their features. Proper Earls and Countesses always traveled with their personal attendants.

In the past year or so, Robert had gone to substantial effort to change with the times: to listen to his ever-practical wife more, to consult his staunchly traditional mother less, to weigh options in a way that really took into consideration outcomes in the post-war world they lived in, rather than always choosing the path he and his forebears had always trod. He'd finally, painfully, recognized what that path really was – a rut. It had become nothing more than a rut in which he no longer wanted to be stuck, because he knew he kept others there with him, held them back. It wasn't easy for him to buck tradition, especially as ingrained in his own character as it was to revere and follow those traditions. No, it wasn't easy, but he had already begun to see results, and, seeing his family thrive as he began to let go of the past, he knew it was worth it.

Robert had gotten to a point where the decision to leave their attendants behind had been no more than a matter of practicality. Did they need valet, lady's maid? Did they want them? They were the only questions Robert had considered. But when he beheld those briefly unguarded – judging? – expressions on the faces of the porters and stewards, he had started to have a few misgivings about their decision, about the fact that they had even thought it _was_ a decision they could make.

It wasn't the misgivings that made him want to drink, however. It was that Cora appeared utterly oblivious to the fact that something may be amiss – partly because of her excitement and wonder over their method of travel, and partly because of her own character and disdain for "the look" of anything. Although she had eventually adapted to the customs of Downton and aristocratic life, and largely abided by them (even identifying some of them as necessary and proper to the functionality of their home and position in society), Cora had never been one to care particularly much what the servants or others thought of trivial details of their lives. Robert, as part of his new-found commitment to relinquishing practices and modes of thought that no longer served them, had set Cora up as his model, a perfect model of balancing the best of the old with the greatest of the new.

Those doubts about leaving lady's maid and valet stayed in the back of Robert's mind – albeit pushed very far back – while he and Cora had tea and laughed and made love and ate dinner and made love yet again. When she fell asleep, he watched her, the doubts creeping in again, and he began to feel guilty. His lovely wife, the model he had set up for himself, had she seen those disapproving, surprised looks, would not have cared. And he loved her for that. And felt miserable for not being able to live up to her example.

And so Robert had quietly left and headed to the bar car, where he had too much Scotch in an effort to feel better about himself again. It didn't help. It merely made him snore… and caused his wife to wake far too early in the morning.

"I am sorry I kept you awake, Cora," he apologized once more. He looked up. She was staring at him, seemingly amused.

"It's alright, Robert. I'm not sure I could have fallen asleep again anyway. Between the motion of the train and the dreams, I do believe Morpheus was conspiring against me." Her voice held a note of mirth, and Robert was grateful she didn't chastise him for going off to the bar car to drink.

Robert was determined to put yesterday's guilt and mistakes and doubts behind him. So he turned his attention to her. "What was this strange dream then? Would you like to tell me?" He moved over so there would be room for her beside him and held his hand out to her.

Cora smiled and crossed over to sit next to him, settling into the crook of his arm and holding his hand. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"Of course I do, darling."

She took a breath and began, a small smile on her face. "I was at home, in one of the gardens. It was a hazy kind of day…"

Robert wrapped his arm tighter around her shoulder and listened intently to the sound of her voice as she related the dream.

"…From around a bend in the garden path came Sybil... our grandbaby Sybil, but she was a little older, able to walk, and in a white dress, with a wreath of blue flowers in her hair. And - oh, Robert - she looked just like our Sybil when she was that age!" Her eyes grew sad for a moment, and then she continued. "But she held out her hand to me, and I took it, and she smiled and had me walk with her. She guided me to our special place, our tree, darling. She had me sit down there, and she hugged me around the neck with her little toddler arms." Cora smiled as she remembered this part. "Then she walked around behind me and tied a pair of fairy wings to my back, as if we were to play dress up. She put the crown of flowers from her hair on mine, and looked at me, just smiling, then said, 'Pretty Grandma.' And then..." Cora hesitated, her brows drawing together in a slight frown.

"Yes, darling? Go on." Robert squeezed her hand encouragingly.

"Well, she giggled and went around behind the tree, and when she came back out, she was wearing the clothes of a little boy... Then she reached out a hand and touched my face, and opened her mouth to say something, but I woke up."

Robert lifted her head up gently to look into her face. "It was only a dream, darling." He kissed her forehead.

"It wasn't a bad one at all, Robert, just strange - although I felt very much at peace there," she said, her eyes softening at the thought, putting her arm around him.

"I hope you did, as it is our special place. As for the dream, do you think it holds a special meaning?"

"I don't know. But, I could have sworn she was about to say..." Cora pulled her brows together again in thought, then shook her head. "No, I can't be sure. Anyway, as you say, it was only a dream. A nice one, though." She put her head on his shoulder.

Holding her closer to him, Robert stroked Cora's hair, wanting to soothe her, knowing she put more stock in dreams than she would admit aloud.

"Cora?" he whispered. "Would you like to try to get some more sleep? Or would you like to get up and see if there is breakfast in the dining car yet?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm not sure I could sleep anymore." She nestled against him, closing her eyes and reveling in his soft touch on her hair. "When are we due into Venice again?"

He continued to gently run his fingers through her hair. "I'm not entirely sure. I believe early tomorrow, darling. I'll check later."

"Alright. I am enjoying the train ride, but I must admit it will be nice to sleep in a real bed again." She chuckled.

"Oh yes, it will – one where we're not so cramped. You do take up a lot of room you know." Robert laughed.

"Why, Robert Crawley!" Cora gently pinched his leg. "You silly thing, you!" She began to laugh with him. "At least I don't snore!"

He kept laughing. "Oh, don't be so sure about that."

"Well, if I do, you've never said anything." Cora settled back against him, putting both her arms around him, utterly contented.

Robert wrapped his arms around her as well, kissing the top of her head. "I'm too much of a gentleman to say anything."

"Do I though?" Cora asked, now extremely curious.

"Now, Cora, that would be telling; my lips are sealed." He grinned and pressed her closer to his chest.

She nuzzled her head into his shoulder, saying softly, "Silly man."

Robert held her tightly, happy simply to sit there with her. "We are going to have such a wonderful time in Venice."

Still wondering what he has planned for them, but knowing he won't tell, Cora said, "Darling, I'm already having a wonderful time." She pulled her head off his shoulder to waggle her eyebrows at him in a cheeky manner.

Robert looked at her, saying, "Good." He leaned down and began to kiss her.

Cora brought one of her arms up to caress his face with her hand while they kissed. Robert pulled her even closer to him, parting her lips gently with his tongue and beginning a lazy exploration of her mouth, whereupon the most delightful tingles started traveling up and down her spine. She moved her other hand to the back of his head to twine her fingers in his hair. As Robert moved his hands down her body, he bent down and plucked at the bedclothes, pulling them completely up over them, Cora's giggles escaping from underneath.


	3. Chapter 3

24 October 1921

The Orient Express arrived in Venice by mid-morning. Robert helped his wife off the train, then set about tipping the steward and porters and checking to make sure the luggage would be directed to the correct place.

"Come along, Cora," he said, smiling and holding his arm out for her to take.

Cora felt her eyes might pop out of her head as they walked from station to waiting boat. This city, where the most beautiful buildings arose from avenues of water, was magnificent. She barely knew how she got from landing into boat, she was so distracted. Robert smiled to himself as he watched her. The city impressed him as well, and he did his fair amount of staring, but his face never reflected the sort of wonder and joy that Cora's did. As she pointed enthusiastically, querying the boatman about various buildings, Robert felt an overwhelming impulse to seize her and kiss her breathless, because she was never more adorable than when her were eyes lit up with excitement as they were now. Instead, he grinned and thought about all the days ahead, activities he had planned that might make her eyes sparkle thus – both in the city and in the hotel.

"Robert, it's so exhilarating! We're being taken to our hotel in a boat!" She clasped her hands together, and it appeared to him that she might have been about to give a little bounce on the seat but thought better of it.

He laughed. "Yes, we'll be taking quite a few boat rides in the next week or so. I hope you like it."

Cora took one of his hands in hers and squeezed it. "I do – very much. Robert, you're so good to me." She smiled at him lovingly.

Lifting her hand to his lips to kiss it, he said, "You deserve it, my darling."

It wasn't long before they reached the hotel, and Cora endeavored to act the part of the Countess she was and keep her enthusiasm in check. She failed miserably, finding herself trying to take in everything at once – from the elegance of the exterior of the hotel to the finely dressed bellmen, from the exquisite statues in the hallways, to the painted ceilings in the lobby. Robert merely took her by the hand, made sure to steer her in the right direction so she didn't run into anything, and set about checking them in, drawing his pleasure from her own obvious delight.

The manager of the hotel, Sig. Conti, opened the door of their suite with a flourish, following them inside and pointing out various details of their accommodations to them. Robert walked with him to the door and thanked him, shaking his hand and assuring him that they would telephone down for anything they might need. Cora sat herself down on a settee, still unable to stop looking around at everything.

After he made sure the door was securely locked behind the manager, Robert returned to the sumptuously appointed sitting area and began to open the bottle of chilled champagne he had arranged to be in their room when they arrived. He poured two glasses and joined Cora on the settee.

"Well? Will this do for the next week?" He handed her one of the glasses and grinned.

"Do? Goodness, Robert, it's incredible."

Robert held his glass up, indicating that she should do the same. After she did, he said, "To you, my love. Happy birthday, and I hope you enjoy every moment of it."

Cora tapped her glass to his and took a sip of the champagne, her expression appreciative. "Mmm, that's very nice," she said, taking another sip. "It seems strange to hear 'happy birthday' after so many months, but this _is_ one of my gifts. And I'm already enjoying it. Very much." She looked into his eyes and held his gaze. "Being alone with you is a wonderful gift. One I don't take for granted."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, saying, "Nor do I. Being alone with you is my present to us both." He gave her a cheeky grin. "I'm glad we left Bates and O'Brien at home." When Robert said it, no matter how he had felt on the train, he knew he meant it. What those others thought wasn't important. The Earl and Countess of Grantham would do as they liked, and damn the rest.

Smiling at him, Cora leaned back and glanced around at it all again. "Everything is beautiful, Robert. I think we will be very comfortable here."

Robert finished his champagne, put his glass down, and took her hand. "Shall we look at the view?"

Cora nodded and stood up, putting her own glass down and walking with him to the balcony doors. Robert opened it and allowed her to step outside first. "Oh, Robert," she breathed. "What a glorious view!"

Stepping up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and put his chin on her shoulder, taking in the scene and breathing in the scents of Venice – and of her. "It is, Cora. It truly is." He kissed the hollow between her collarbone and neck, savoring the contented sigh he heard escape her lips.

She leaned back into him, placing her arms over his, becoming so comfortable in his arms that she began to feel sleepy. She couldn't suppress a yawn.

Robert chuckled softly. "Cora?" He extended his head forward to look at her face, noticing her eyelids looked very heavy.

"Yes, darling?" Her voice was languid.

"I think someone may need a nap," he whispered.

Cora's eyes began to droop. "But there is Venice and a view and water…."

"The view and the water and Venice will all be here when you wake up." He chuckled again, the sound rich and deep with amusement. "Come along, my love."

Robert pulled one of his arms free of her grasp so he could swoop her up and carry her. Carefully, he maneuvered her through the doorway, through the sitting room, and into the bedroom, placing her gently on the bed. Cora fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, and Robert covered her with a blanket, kissing her forehead.

* * *

Yawning and stretching, Cora sat up, looking at the clock on the bedside table. It was almost time to dress for dinner. She glanced over to see Robert sitting in one of the bedroom chairs, a book in his hand where he had been reading while she slept.

Smiling sheepishly at him, Cora said, "I never meant to sleep so long, Robert."

He smiled back at her, closing his book and getting up to cross the room and stand next to the bed. "That's quite alright, sweetheart. I know you hadn't been sleeping well on the train."

"No, but this bed is heavenly." She grinned at him and stretched out again, like a cat.

Robert sat next to her on the edge of the bed. "Is it? Perhaps I should have joined you. But the chair was very comfortable as well. I _may_ have napped a little myself," he admitted, chuckling.

Cora's stomach gave a loud growl. "Oh my. How hungry I am!"

"Well, darling, of course you are. You slept right through luncheon and tea." He grinned at her and brushed a few locks of hair back from her face.

"Did you have luncheon?" she asked, looking concerned.

"No, but I did have tea. I thought about waking you, but you appeared so peaceful, that I thought I should let you sleep." He kissed her cheek. "Let's get dressed, and I'll take you downstairs for dinner."

It took longer than usual for them to get dressed. The black gloves that Cora had worn just the other night seemed to have disappeared among their baggage, and she had to settle on a different pair that she insisted didn't quite match her dress. Robert muttered about tying his tie, redoing it several times before being satisfied enough with it to be seen in public. It was the one thing that made him miss Bates. Finally they were ready, and Cora didn't think they could get downstairs quickly enough to silence her ever-rumbling stomach.

As they entered one of the hotel's restaurants, the smells in the air made Cora's mouth water. Not long after they sat down, a bread basket was put in front of them, and she snatched up a piece, not pausing to butter it, biting into it blissfully, her eyes closed.

Robert watched her, mystified. He'd never seen her quite this way before. Shrugging to himself, he turned to the window and admired the view from where they sat.

"Cora, look. Isn't it grand?" he asked, sitting back in his chair a little.

"Hmmm?" She didn't look up from her perusal of the menu and second piece of bread.

"The view, Cora." Robert turned to look at her, and she finally lifted her head.

"I'm sorry, darling, I was trying to decide what to order." She smiled and put the last bite of bread in her mouth before turning to look at the prospect herself. After swallowing the bread, she smiled, saying, "It really is a magnificent city, Robert."

He reached for her hand across the table. "It is. I'm happy that we made the trip." He pressed her hand. "Now, what are we eating, my dear."

Cora's eyes shone. "I was thinking of the chicken marsala. And a salad. And dessert. And this bread is very good. There are some kind of herbs in it; it's delicious."

Robert laughed. "You'd think you hadn't eaten for an age, Cora! But that sounds wonderful, and I'll have the same." He lifted his hand for a waiter and ordered for them.

Picking up yet another piece of bread, Cora grinned at Robert and asked, "So, what do you have planned for us tomorrow? Or is that still a secret?"

"Well, I actually haven't planned out too many things for us; I want to do and see what you want. However, I did think we could take a boat tour. That way we can figure out what we might want to explore further whilst we're here." He kept his hand in hers.

"I would love that, darling." The first pangs of hunger easing, she placed the uneaten half of bread on her bread plate.

"And then – tomorrow night – the first of your surprises," he said with a wide grin.

Cora squeezed his hand. "Oh, I do love surprises."

"I know you do, my dear. And I am certain you will love this one." Robert sipped his wine and then leaned forward. "I almost took you to Rome instead of Venice."

"I would have been happy with anywhere you decided to take me, Robert. But it _is_ very beautiful."

He lifted her hand to kiss it, his eyes never leaving hers. "A beautiful city for a most beautiful lady."

Blushing and lowering her lashes, she murmured, "Robert…."

Robert kissed her hand again before being interrupted by a waiter bringing their meal. Cora stared at it wide-eyed, and Robert laughed when she unconsciously licked her lips and exclaimed, "Oh, lovely!"

Cora looked up at him, her fork already poised over her food. "Why are you laughing?"

"Nothing really, sweetheart. It's just I'm not sure I've ever seen you act quite this way over a meal before."

She grinned. "I am sorry. I don't know why I'm so hungry. It must be the traveling, don't you think?"

Robert shook his head when she didn't wait for a response, but started eating with gusto. "It must be," he muttered before picking up his own fork and beginning to eat. He had to admit, though, the food _was_ very good.

After he'd eaten his fill, Robert put his knife and fork down and sat back to watch his wife. He marveled at how much she had eaten so quickly. Cora glanced up and realized he was staring at her. "Robert? Aren't you going to finish that?"

"No, no, darling. It's delicious, but I'm quite satisfied."

She had gotten to her last bite of chicken. "Might I have it?"

Robert blinked a few times in astonishment. "Er… pardon?"

"It seems a shame to waste it, Robert." She was soaking up the remaining marsala sauce on her plate with a piece of bread.

"Um… alright. Sure." He watched in amazement – and, although he tried to hide it, slight alarm – as she pushed their plates together and carefully transferred the chicken from his plate to her own.

"What should we have for dessert?" she asked between bites.

Robert continued to gape at her, managing to get out a few words, "Whatever you'd like, Cora."

Supremely unaware of his expression, Cora thought a few moments while finishing his chicken. Then she picked up the dessert menu, while Robert shook himself and managed to adopt a more normal expression. He summoned the waiter, who took their order: chocolate mousse for her ladyship and a large Scotch for his lordship.

After the waiter brought their order, Robert drank of the Scotch and sighed appreciatively. "My, that's good Scotch."

Cora had already started into the chocolate mousse and sighed in a similar way. "And this is a truly delectable dessert." She glanced up at him. "Would you like a taste, darling?"

Robert grinned. "Why not?" He leaned forward as she fed him some from across the table with a sassy look. "Goodness, that _is_ wonderful."

"I will share it with you if you like. I'm finally starting to feel full." Her laughter chimed in his ears like bright musical notes.

"I'll have a bit more." He gave her a cheeky grin of his own, lowering his voice and leaning closer. "That is if you keep feeding me with that adorable expression on your face."

She said not a word, but continued to feed him chocolate mousse, only taking her eyes off him to put more on the spoon. He ended up eating most of the dessert, the fun of feeding him outweighing her taste for chocolate.

"That is a very good mousse, I must say," he remarked.

"It is. But you've got a little bit…" She took her thumb and ran it across the corner of his mouth, then continued, "…right there."

Robert locked eyes with her as he captured her hand and put her thumb to his lips, licking the mousse off of it. She blushed bright red, half embarrassed and half thrilled, hissing, "Roberrrrrrt…." But she grinned at him.

Kissing her hand, he smirked at her. "I think it might be time to take you back upstairs," he whispered.

In answer, Cora simply stood up and gave him a coy look, her cheeks still rosy with her blush. She had wanted to get downstairs as quickly as possible because of her appetite for food, but she found it was nothing to how quickly she need to be back upstairs to satisfy her growing appetite for something else entirely….

Robert, unmindful of the other diners or waiters, wrapped his arm tightly about her waist and rushed her out of the restaurant, encouraged by her giggles. They made it upstairs to their suite in what had to be record time, Robert pausing a few seconds at the door to make sure the "do not disturb" sign was clearly in view on the door handle and that it was locked securely. Then he turned to his wife with a wide smile, standing still just to gaze at her.

"Cora, I sometimes don't think you realize how you take my breath away."

This caused Cora to blush again and cross the short distance between them. "When you say things like that…" she breathed, playing with his tie as he wrapped his arms around her. Then she tugged on his collar, drawing his ear to her lips and whispering three words, "I need you."

It was all Robert needed to hear to drive him completely beyond his wits. He swept her up in his arms as he had earlier in the day, but this time the action was accompanied by Cora's delighted shriek and the knowledge that she wouldn't be falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Nibbling on her ear as he walked, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, he said, "Let's see how heavenly that bed really is."

Cora drew away from him a little to caress his cheek with the backs of her fingers and give him that look he knew and loved so well, the corners of her mouth turned up in a Cheshire cat grin. "Oh, darling, you'll make it heaven."

With this she put a hand on either side of his face, and kissed him so intensely, he had to stop walking for fear of tripping over something. In a few moments he had to break off the kiss and quicken his steps – for fear that standing there kissing her like would make his knees buckle and they would fall over in a heap. When Robert reached the bed, he threw her onto it with a laugh and was rewarded with another joyous shriek from Cora and accompanying laugh of her own as she bounced on the mattress.

Undressing took far less time than dressing had, and soon clothes were strewn all over the room, lying wherever they'd been thrown, since neither Cora nor Robert would take their eyes off one another during this process. It wasn't very long at all before Robert was leaning against the bed, a hand on either side of Cora, who was kneeling in front of him on the bedspread. He lifted his head up to imbibe the sweet nectar of her mouth while she left a trail of fire over his shoulders and back and chest with her hands. Still keeping his hands firmly upon the bedspread on either side of her, he began a lazy journey with mouth and tongue over her skin which shone like moonlight to him. At various places he would linger – the juncture of her collar bones at the base of her throat, the very tip of a nipple, the shadowy place below the curves her breasts, just outside her navel – and Cora felt she might go mad with how often she reached the edge, only to have him move on. She knew he was teasing her and also knew that he knew how this type of teasing only heightened her desire and pleasure.

And his. Cora had very deliberately not touched him below the waist, and yet… Every time she opened her eyes and looked at him, she couldn't help grinning. She loved she still had that affect on him after all these years.

Robert most certainly still had an affect on her, and after a few more instances where he danced her to the edge of insanity only to pull her back again, she could take no more. Cora abruptly lifted his head from her abdomen and covered his mouth with hers, plunging her tongue within its depths while she moved her hands down to cover his buttocks, pressing his body to her own hungrily. His answering moan and enthusiastic response motivated her to tip them both over so they were lying on their sides across the bed, locked in a tight embrace. Robert hooked his arms beneath her thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist, his hands stroking her skin as he did. Still engaged in a passionate kiss, he waited until she was nearly whimpering with incoherency, then pulled his head back, looking into her eyes questioningly. Her eyes beseeched him while she gave the tiniest nod of the head.

Smiling, Robert placed his cheek against hers and whispered tenderly, "I love you, sweetheart, and I need you too," before entering her slowly and listening to her rapturous sigh.

They stayed how Cora had pulled them over onto the bed, on their sides, facing one another, her legs encircling his waist and their arms entwined. Now they moved together, their eyes fastened upon one another, silent messages passing between them, messages of tenderness and passion, of love and lust. Their movement, at first deliberate and calculated, became frenzied, but their eyes never broke contact, even as Cora's widened with ecstasy as she reached her pinnacle and let out an impassioned cry, gasping for air as she continued moving, watching for her husband's own signs of release. These signs manifested themselves several minutes later, as he moaned with pleasure and pulled Cora closer to him, touching his forehead to hers, blue eyes still gazing upon blue eyes.

"See?" Cora panted. "Heavenly."

Robert grinned and nodded, unable to speak just yet. After a little while this way, gazing adoringly at one another, stroking each other arms dreamily, Cora noticed that he seemed to be forcing his eyelids to remain open. Smiling, she extricated her leg out from under him and fumbled around for the blanket that had covered her earlier for her nap, pulling it up over them. She didn't move otherwise, except to kiss his cheek and bring his head gently to rest on her arm. Robert started to protest but was too tired to get any words out, so he nestled his head under her chin, squeezing her tightly one last time before letting his eyes close again.

"Sweet dreams, my darling," Cora whispered, kissing the top of his head. "I love you too."


	4. Chapter 4

25 October 1921

When Robert awakened the next morning, he felt an incredible sense of peace before he even opened his eyes. As he became aware of his surroundings, he realized his wife's arms were around him, her body pressed close to his own. Neither had moved during the night, and so they had remained entwined that way. Robert felt more well-rested than he had in years; not only was the bed heavenly, awaking with Cora's arms around him was absolute paradise.

Watching Cora sleep, Robert lifted his arm to lightly trace his forefinger over her face: down the bridge of her nose, over the curve of her cheekbone, across her eyebrows, along her jawline, and over her chin. The years had etched a few lines across her delicate features – especially the past several years. It hurt Robert to recall just how many of those lines must have been caused by him. And so he gently moved his thumb along the lines, as if to erase them.

Not that Robert cared one jot that his wife's face had lines; her beauty remained unmarred by such things. It was the pain he wished to smooth away, what the lines represented. The lines themselves made no matter to him. She had been and would always be his Cora, magnificent and divine.

Cora stirred slightly in her sleep as Robert next ran his thumb over her lips, barely touching them. He didn't wish to wake her, so he rested his hand upon the blanket and resumed his contemplation of his wife, turning to the topography of her body. Yet, as he caressed her ivory skin with his eyes, he longed to follow suit with his hands.

Thus, it was with great excitement that he observed her eyelashes finally flutter and her lips curve upward in a smile.

"Good morning, beloved," she breathed.

"Good morning to you, sweetheart." Robert knew his countenance must be beaming, and he put his hand under her chin. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very well indeed." She began to stretch in his arms, inadvertently – or perhaps purposely, he wasn't certain – brushing her breasts against his chest and her hip against his. Immediately his heartbeat quickened, and his body responded in other ways as well.

"Good God, Cora, you have woven some sort of spell over me lately." He leaned forward to whisper to her huskily, "Please tell me you'll let me do something about it, you marvelous temptress…."

Cora let out a low laugh and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm not sure how I could have woven a spell so quickly, my dear, as I've only just awakened."

"Oh, but you have." Robert ran his hand along her side, over her rib cage and down the curve of her waist, bringing it to rest on her hip.

She looked at him with her blue eyes full of mischief. "I think someone is trying to cast a spell of his own." Stroking her hands long the back of his hair, she leaned over and kissed the spot just under his ear before saying softly, "And it's working brilliantly, darling."

Robert tightened his hold on her hip slightly in order to pull her closer, pressing her up against him. "How brilliantly?" he asked. "Because I could just…" With one swift motion, he flipped the pair of them so he was now looking down into Cora's face, one hand still on her hip and the other on her waist.

"Robert!" she squealed, laughing and reaching around to slap him on the bottom with both hands. "You naughty man!"

Yelping with both surprise and glee, Robert gaped at his wife. "Me?! What about you?"

Cora kept laughing. "I'm sorry, darling. I'm not sure what's gotten into me, but I'm feeling very playful right now." Her hands remained on his behind, rubbing gently to take away any pain her slap might given him.

"Mmmmm…." He closed his eyes, relishing her attentions. "I didn't say I minded, especially if you make it up to me like that." He opened his eyes again and smirked at her.

"And when you look at me like that…" She waggled her eyebrows at him, whereupon he started kissing her in earnest, sliding his hands underneath her to knead her bottom.

Hardly any time passed before Cora was practically begging Robert to put her out of her misery. Grinning at her, he flipped her legs up, resting her calves on his shoulders – both of them sending up a silent thanks to God for her continued flexibility – but then, instead of plunging into her, he entered her leisurely, continuing the spirit of play.

Cora grasped at the bedspread, moaning. "Robert, please… it's torture!" She looked at him longingly.

Seeing her expression, not having realized how serious her need for him had become, Robert ceased toying with her and gladly picked up the tempo. Her visage reflected both her gratitude and her elation, and she reached up to run her fingers through the soft, silvery hair on his chest. An exultant look crossed his face, and he began to move faster. She closed her eyes and arched her back as that glorious euphoria overwhelmed her, and in the next minute Robert's movements stilled, save for the heavy rise and fall of his chest Cora felt against the back of her legs.

After he had caught his breath, Robert lifted himself up enough to gently lay Cora's legs down on the bed. She grinned at him as he crawled up beside her and nestled up against her side, nuzzling her neck and gently kissing her collar bone.

Gingerly, Cora stretched her legs out, a slight grimace crossing her face. Flexible she might still be, but some days she felt her age. "It may be fortunate this isn't a walking tour we're going on today," she chuckled.

Robert sat up on his elbow and placed a hand on her cheek. "Darling, we may need to retire that particular position."

"Bite your tongue, Robert Crawley! It's a perfectly good position. I'm just a bit stiff is all." Her eyes shone with mirth.

"Being stiff is not always a bad thing." He began to laugh, unable to stop even when she slapped him playfully on the arm.

"And you think _I'm_ the naughty one!"

Pausing long enough to give her a quick kiss on the lips, Robert got up and put his dressing gown on, still laughing. "I'm going to call down for some breakfast. You lie there and recuperate." He gave her a cheeky wink before leaving the room, where Cora had also begun to laugh.

* * *

The boat tour of Venice lasted several hours and ended with a rather large late luncheon. When they got back to the hotel afterward, Robert, perceiving his wife's fatigue, insisted that she lie down for a few hours. Cora acquiesced only after she extracted a promise (easily given) from him to wake her up in plenty of time to get ready for her surprise that night.

As good as his word, in plenty of time for the evening's activities, Robert sat upon the edge of the bed and softly stroked Cora's cheek, murmuring, "Cora… Cora…."

Cora wakened at his voice and touch, smiling to see him, as she had that morning.

Robert continued to stroke her cheek. "How are you feeling, darling?" he asked, returning her smile.

"Much better, my dear."

"Are you sure?" He stood, his expression reflecting slight concern. "We can postpone your surprise if you're still tired."

Rising to her knees on the bed, Cora clutched one of his hands to her chest and gave a little bounce. "No, I'm not tired, Robert. I want my surprise – please?"

Chuckling, Robert cupped her cheek with his free hand and kissed her gently. "Of course then, sweetheart. But we had better start getting ready."

Cora gave another bounce of excitement, Robert grinning at her. He gave her one more peck on the cheek before crossing the room to his wardrobe to begin dressing for the evening.

"Robert?" Cora stood in front of her own wardrobe staring at her clothes. "What am I supposed to wear? I don't want to be improperly dressed for this surprise."

A dress shirt in his hand, he turned to look at her, still grinning. "You need to find your opera dress. I made sure O'Brien packed it among your things."

"The opera? In Venice?" For a few seconds Cora looked incredulous and then she crossed the room to throw her arms around him and give him a passionate kiss, the dress shirt pressed between them.

Once she'd pulled back again, Robert kept his arms around her and looked down into her face. "We'd be fools not to attend an opera in Venice. Now, go get ready or we'll be late for curtain."

Cora gave him one more small kiss before going back to her wardrobe to find the dress. Robert could tell just how excited she was by the way she continued to chatter the whole time they were getting ready.

"Oh, darling, it's been such a long time since we went to the opera, or even a play! And to see it in Italy! I can't believe you arranged this. How thrilling!" As she was redoing her coiffure, she glanced at him in the vanity mirror. "Which opera is it, Robert? Or is that secret until we get there?"

"No, I'll tell you, Cora. It's La Traviata." Robert stepped into the washroom to use the mirror there. He found he was still having trouble tying his tie, and he wanted to get it just right for their special outing. As she began chattering about the opera, which he had known was one of her favorites, he let out a low chuckle, glad to hear the note of giddiness in her voice – glad to be the one who put it there.

Once Cora had selected and put on appropriate jewels, she stood and hoped she could locate her opera gloves, rather than having to give up the search like she had with her gloves the night before. She was pleased when she found them with very little effort and drew them on as Robert slipped his jacket over his shoulders.

Indicating his perfectly tied tie with both hands, he beamed at her, proudly. "I did it."

"You look absolutely magnificent, Robert." Cora sashayed over to stand in front of him, smiling.

"I think that compliment is better suited to you, my love. You are simply radiant." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "No one will be able to concentrate on the opera with you in the room."

This brought a blush to her cheeks. "Robert, you have quite a flair for hyperbole."

Robert went over to her wardrobe for her evening coat, helping her into it. He paused with his hands on her shoulders, leaning close to her and saying, "At least… _I_ won't be able to concentrate on the opera with such a lovely creature sitting next to me."

Cora gave a low laugh and took his arm after he had donned his own coat, gloves and hat. They made their way downstairs and into the waiting boat. When they had settled on the seat, Robert put his arm around her shoulders, cradling her.

"Did you enjoy the tour today, Cora? Seeing the sights?"

She looked up at him and pressed his hand. "I did, Robert. And I enjoyed having you next to me even more."

Robert kissed her forehead. "As did I. It's my favorite place to be."

Leaning against his shoulder , she sighed contentedly. "Mine too."

They traveled along the water in blissful silence, watching the lights of Venice pass by them, until they reached the opera house. Robert helped her out of the boat, and they went inside, both awestruck by the opulence of the house itself and of the people who were there to see and be seen. Most of them were Italians, but some were Europeans, with even some other English subjects among them. As Robert led Cora to the special box he had reserved for them, he was gratified to note no one of their acquaintance among the English there tonight. He wanted to share this time with his wife with no other.

Having done his level best to think of everything, he had arranged for opera glasses and the very best champagne to be ready for them in their box. They took their seats and Robert poured a glass for Cora and one for himself. Of course, he would have preferred a good Scotch, but he knew Cora loved champagne, and he sought to please her.

"Darling, this is wonderful," she said, her eyes bright, sipping her champagne.

He was agreeably surprised himself as he tasted the champagne. "Now, that _is_ quite nice, isn't it?" He didn't wait for her to answer, simply took her hand and stated, "This is an experience I'm going to enjoy."

She chuckled. "And why is that, in particular?"

Robert gestured with his glass. "I may not have a clue what they are singing about, or what it means, but who needs to? This theater is stunning…." He turned to gaze at her. "…like you."

Cora blushed and lowered her lashes for a few seconds, then raised them again, saying in a hushed voice, "Robert Crawley, you're going to completely spoil me."

Leaning closer, he squeezed her hand and fastened his eyes on hers. "Please, let me spoil you. You deserve to be spoiled for a while. God knows – I know – how much you've been through in the past years. Let me try to make up for some of it. Please?"

The last word fell on Cora's ears like a prayer, a desperate entreaty, and she felt her heart might burst with the tenderness she felt for him in that moment. Holding back tears, she instead gave him a soft smile. "Alright," she whispered. "You may spoil me for a little while."

Robert gently kissed her lips and then her hand as the lights went down and the curtain came up. "Thank you," she heard him breathe. Robert knew that he had no power to erase the lines on his wife's beautiful face. But he would do everything he could to make sure that any new lines created would be by happy memories rather than sad. He didn't want the subtle creases to mark traumas of the past; he wanted only to see her happy. The only true happiness he knew was when she was happy.

* * *

The curtain fell upon La Traviata, and, after whole-hearted applause from both, Robert assisted a slightly tipsy Cora down the stairs, out of the opera house, and into the waiting boat. She stumbled slightly and laughed as he caught her around the waist.

"Careful, darling. We don't want you diving headfirst into the canal." He chuckled and settled her before taking his place beside her, his arm stealing around her waist again, pulling her close to him. The night was chilly, and he didn't want her to be cold. Besides – he simply wanted to be near her.

"Robert, it was simply glorious. I can't thank you enough for such a lovely surprise." She gazed up at him in absolute adoration.

A slow smile crossed his face. "Honestly, Cora, I found myself enjoying it – the actual opera – more than I anticipated." Moreover, he had derived an immense joy from watching her expressions change. His eyes kept moving back and forth between the stage and her face, reveling in her gasps, sighs, smiles, and tears. A few times during the opera her hand had reached for his, and he gave it to her willingly so she could press it with whatever emotion she was feeling.

Cora cuddled happily against him, and then her stomach gave a low growl. The late luncheon seemed so far away now. "Darling? Might we have dinner soon?"

"Hmmm?" Robert turned again to his wife. "Yes, of course, Cora," he answered distractedly. He had heard her, but had been somewhat preoccupied with watching other boats pass. He was amazed – and slightly scandalized – by the realization that not only were many of them occupied by couples, but that most of these were engaged in extremely pleasurable activities. In the nighttime of Venice, each of these boats was apparently its own separate world where nothing existed but the couple nestled within.

The observation – combined with the effects of champagne, the exhilaration of a perfect evening, the images of the past few days flitting through his mind, and the nearness of his lovely wife – made Robert bold. He lifted her head gently and covered her lips with his.

Cora's eyes widened for a few seconds as he almost immediately deepened the kiss and pressed her against him, his other arm snaking around her waist as well. Her Robert, her husband who would almost never do more than hold her hand or kiss her cheek in front of their own family, was kissing her in the same manner he might if they were alone, rather than in full view of the entire city of Venice. It was…quite stimulating, in fact. Closing her eyes, she allowed his hands to roam beneath the concealment of her coat – until he began to inch the skirt of her dress up to the point that she noticed it had reached above her knee.

"Roberrrrrt!" she hissed in his ear, really more amused than annoyed, but also becoming aware that they were very near the hotel.

His hand stilled, but he continued to run his lips across her earlobe. "Yes, my darling?" Once he had begun his foray into this previously unexplored territory, he found that he, like the other couples had appeared to, had forgotten that anyone else in the world existed.

"The hotel…we're nearly there." She chuckled as another rumble came from her stomach. "And I'm quite hungry."

Robert leaned back and looked around. "Oh. We really are nearly there." He grinned at her. "What a shame."

Cora placed a hand on his arm and gave him a coy look. "I agree. Perhaps we should have dinner sent to our room."

"What a fine idea, Cora." As the boat pulled up to their hotel, he whispered in her ear, "I've worked up quite an appetite," which caused her to giggle and blush.

Robert helped her out of the boat, both of them carefully and furtively making sure her clothing was in place before she set foot on the landing. Cora clung to his arm while he led her into the hotel and up to the desk, where he ordered dinner to be brought up to their room. As soon as they closed the door to their suite, Robert pressed her up against it, kissing her neck and fumbling beneath her coat to reach around and squeeze her bottom.

"Oh my…" she breathed, somewhat taken aback by the abruptness of his actions. However, she had no mind to question it, simply twined her fingers in his hair and let satisfaction wash over her.

That is until Cora heard, and felt, a knock on the door. Inclined to laugh, she stopped herself when she saw Robert put his hands on either side of her on the door and hang his head in disappointment with a very low, "Damn."

"Robert, I'll let the waiter in. You go sit down." She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek and watched him head toward the bedroom to take off his coat. Making sure she wasn't too disheveled herself, she opened the door for the waiter.

The waiter having set out the food, Cora tipped him and went to the bedroom to divest herself of her own coat and gloves. Robert sat in a chair, looking exhausted. After she threw her coat and gloves on another chair, Cora knelt down beside him and took his hand.

"Darling? Is everything alright?" Her eyes were all concern.

Robert gave her a tired smile. "Yes, my love. All is well." He touched her face gently. "You're hungry. We should eat before it gets cold."

Before she could answer, he stood, pulling her up with him, and led her to the table. They ate in silence, but they held one another's hand and Robert rubbed the back of hers gently with his thumb. Between bites they exchanged tender glances. Cora ate three helpings, while Robert looked on, keeping his own counsel.

When she finally pushed her plate back, she stood up and, without a word, sat on his lap. She took his face in both of her hands and searched his eyes for one long moment before leaning down and kissing him. Once she'd released his mouth, he grinned at her.

"Robert, I've had such a wonderful evening. I love you so very much." She embraced him tightly, putting her head on his shoulder.

"I love you too, Cora." He gave a deep sigh, part contentment and part disappointment, as he could tell how very worn out she was. "Come on, my dear. It's very late. Bed time."

Detaching her arms from him, he stood up with her and led her by the hand into the bedroom. Cora's weariness was all too apparent now, and an overwhelming tenderness for her seized Robert, manifesting itself into an ardent wish to take care of her. So he sat her at the vanity and carefully removed her jewelry, then clumsily pulled the pins from her hair, luckily without hurting her. She smiled at him sleepily in the mirror as he gently brushed her hair. He helped her to stand and removed her dress, slip, and underthings – this last at her own request.

When he would have put her night dress on her, she stopped him. "Robert, I'm quite warm. I don't want to wear my night dress."

Robert humored her, assisting her onto the bed and making sure the bedclothes were within her reach should she get cold. Then he went about changing out of his own garments, deciding at the last minute that he would also forego wearing night clothes, wanting at the very least to feel Cora's skin against his as he fell asleep.

Turning out the lamps, he climbed into bed and settled himself next to her. She lay on her side, so he neatly slid his arm under her neck, pressed his chest to her back, draped his other arm around her, and gently rested his hips against her bottom, tucking his knees up under hers. Closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of lavender soap from her hair, he began to feel comfortably drowsy himself.

Cora, however, had become wide awake when she felt her husband crawl into bed and press his naked body against hers. She thought she knew the cause of his earlier silence, and so, very deliberately, very slowly, she stirred, pushing her hips back into his groin.

"Cora…" he muttered. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was until I felt you come up behind me like that." She chuckled softly.

"So now I'm not allowed to sleep?" Robert's body was certainly responding to her continued movement against him. He lifted his head a bit to breathe in her ear, "You incorrigible minx."

"I enjoy being an incorrigible minx. Particularly when there are such rewarding results." Cora reached a hand back to touch him, evoking a low groan from deep in his throat.

All of the events of the evening came rushing back to him, stoking such a fire in him that he could wait no longer. Gently, he removed Cora's hand, and without moving otherwise, he put a hand on her hip to help guide himself into her. She let out a gasp of surprise and pleasure, and placed her hand over his where it still rested on her hip. Robert laced his fingers with hers and kissed her neck tenderly as he oh-so-leisurely moved his hips against hers.

Closing her eyes again, Cora sighed deeply, beginning to moan. "Robert, I need…" She couldn't form the words; her mind couldn't think of the right ones.

He paused in his attentions to her neck and shoulders to ask gently, "What do you need? Show me if you can't tell me." He knew that she sometimes got to a point where she couldn't express what she wanted, but he never liked to assume he knew what it might be – she still had the capability to astound him.

Cora unlaced their fingers and pulled his hand down between her legs, pressing his fingers there.

"Of course, darling," he whispered in her ear as she moved her own hand around to the back of his head, stroking his hair as his fingers stroked her.

Soon what had started as a lazy copulation became an intensely feverish race toward mutual release. Each were moaning and panting, perspiration glistening off their bodies. And so zealous was their love-making that they arrived at their climax in nearly the same moment, Robert crying out only seconds before Cora.

Exhausted from the day and their activities, but both exceedingly satisfied, they lay there, finally becoming calm and dozing, still spooned together. Cora, feeling cold at last, found the edge of the bed clothes and drew them up over the pair of them. She then turned her head toward him, puckering her lips. Robert lifted his head enough to give her a lovely long kiss before, utterly spent, they fell into a peaceful slumber, fingers intertwined.


	5. Chapter 5

26 October 1921

Although exhausted and filled with a splendid sense of contentment, Robert Crawley did not get a full, restful night's sleep. Everything was fine until around three or four in the morning, when his wife started to twitch in a most extraordinary manner, waking him. For a while he simply lay there, waiting for her to stop. He contemplated rolling over to his side of the bed to get some more sleep, but he didn't want to let her go. However, he was still very tired…. Fortunately, after nearly a half hour of her limbs – and his brain – moving to and fro, her body stilled, and he drifted off to sleep once more.

But getting the remainder of the morning to sleep was not to be. Not more than two hours later, he felt something hit his leg. Robert opened his eyes and sat up on his elbow, wondering what was going on. Then Cora drew her leg back violently – making painful contact with his shin – in order to kick out in front of her, and Robert comprehended what must have woken him.

"Ouch!" he cried out, then shook her by the shoulder. "Cora. Cora, wake up."

Instead of waking, she started muttering in her sleep. Since she seemed to have stopped kicking out, he left off shaking her and just listened to her.

Robert practically jumped when she shouted, "No, you get away!" Whereupon, he sat up and checked to make sure she really was still asleep. He continued to sit there, uncertain whether to laugh or be deeply concerned.

"Leave us alone!" Rolling over onto her back, Cora balled up her fists and waved them about threateningly, her eyes still firmly closed.

At this, Robert progressed definitively from half amused to wholly anxious. Placing a hand on her arm, he bent down and whispered to her, "Cora, I'm here, darling."

Cora opened her eyes and looked at him briefly before closing them tightly again. But in those few seconds what he thought he saw there was fear. The way she clutched at his arms, attempting to pull him to her, only confirmed that thought. He lay back down and clasped her in his arms. She buried her head in his shoulder, breathing hard.

"Oh ho, hey! Sweetheart? Were you having a bad dream?" Of course Robert knew she must have been, and he began stroking her hair, kissing the top of her head, wanting to comfort her.

Nodding, she sustained her grasp upon his arms, trying to still the rapid beating of her heart.

"My dearest one, it's all alright. It's just a dream." His hushed, reassuring tone seemed to calm her, and he kissed her head again as her grip upon his forearms loosened a trifle and her breathing became closer to normal. Nevertheless, he continued to stroke her hair and held her even more securely against him, still nervous about her bizarre behavior. Robert could remember only one set of circumstances under which his wife had ever talked and moved so in her sleep, and it had got him wondering….

But right now he focused on Cora, who needed his attention. For she remained upset.

Robert continued to speak softly, "Shall I get you a glass of water?"

Cora exhaled deeply before answering. "Yes, I think I would like some water."

Sitting up against the headboard, her face still flushed, she watched her husband disappear into the other room and return with a glass of water. She took the glass and drank it down, then extended her other hand to him.

Taking her hand, Robert sat on the bed next to her. "Better?"

Cora nodded. "Yes." She squeezed his hand.

He brought her hand to his lips to kiss it. "Good then. You certainly were moving about. It's not like you."

Cora looked at him. "Was I? Oh, my dear, I must have woken you. I'm sorry." She pressed his hand again. "Do you remember several months ago? When we were in London together?"

"Yes. Why?" he asked, curious.

"Well, remember our encounters with a certain, erm, 'gentleman'?"

Robert's face grew dark at this, but he nodded.

"In my dream he approached us again, and he wouldn't leave us be. Much like before. But he punched you, and you fell to the ground, and so I kicked him. Twice."

Not pleased that he had been the one punched in her dream, he nonetheless derived a certain measure of amusment from the fact that she'd kicked that man. He chuckled. "You did? Well, you actually kicked _me_ twice."

Cora's eyes widened with shock. "I did? Oh, darling, I'm so sorry." She drew his hand to her lips to kiss each finger tenderly in contrition. "I didn't mean to."

He smiled at her warmly. "I know you didn't, sweetheart. And as long as you kicked that bastard good and hard…" He began to laugh.

She narrowed her eyes at him for a few seconds before joining in. "Oh yes. You should have seen his face when I did. I only hope I didn't kick _you_ too hard."

"No, no, I'm fine, Cora." His laughter trailed off, and he looked at her again with concern. "Are _you_ fine now, though? Are you, darling?"

"Yes, Robert. I'm fine now." She smiled at him.

"Good. Look, I don't think I'll be able to get back to sleep, so I'm going to see if they've left a paper outside the door yet and ring down for some breakfast." Robert cupped her face in his hand and ran his thumb across her cheek. "But if you're calm enough now, I do believe you should try and sleep a few more hours, darling. You were so tired last night."

"But I'm not…" she started, but a yawn interrupted her, belying what she was about to say. She grinned sheepishly. "Well, perhaps I am still sleepy. Save me some bacon."

They kissed one another, and Robert made sure she was tucked securely within the shelter of the bedclothes with her eyes closed before locating his dressing gown and putting it on. He gave her one last somewhat concerned glance as he closed the door to the bedroom, not at all sure he'd be able to focus on his newspaper with all he had been given to reflect upon.

* * *

The bacon had long gotten cold before Robert heard Cora moving about in the bedroom. But it did please him that she had slept for quite a few hours, since he suspected she'd needed it. He could just hear her happy humming through the closed door, which relaxed him, set his own mind more at ease.

A knock came at the door, and he let the waiter in to set out tea in the sitting room for them. Robert had called down for it not long after he realized she was awake, making certain that there would be plenty of lovely sandwiches and tea cakes for her, knowing she must be hungry. He took a cup of tea over by the window after the waiter left, perusing a guide book of Venice while he waited for Cora to emerge from the bedroom.

Robert had just decided that he should take Cora for a gondola ride late that afternoon when he heard the bedroom door finally open. Smiling, he turned from the window – then dropped his teacup on the floor, where it broke, spattering the half-drunk contents onto his shoes, his face undergoing a complete transformation.

"Cora!" he bellowed in shock.

For his wife had come out of the bedroom stark naked.

Walking over to the settee, she picked up a sandwich and started to nibble at it, unperturbed at his shout. She glanced up at him. "Robert, I'm sorry, I'm just _so hot_. And I couldn't stay in that stuffy room any longer, especially not having eaten anything. Could you open the window?" She bit into the sandwich. "These are very good."

Robert simply stared at her, a trifle dazed – and quite relieved that the waiter had been and gone before his wife decided to appear in all her unadorned glory.

Cora looked up at him after finishing her sandwich, noting that he hadn't so much as twitched, the same astonished expression on his face. "Robert? If you're not going to open the window, I'll do it." She started to move away from the tea service toward him.

Whatever else might be going on with his wife, he did not want her anywhere near an open window right now, no matter what floor they happened to be on. "No, no. You sit. I'll open it." He hastened toward the window and opened it for her. "How is that? Better?"

She stood a moment and closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze hit her bare skin. She frowned a bit. "Well, a little." Cora sat down, looking over the tea tray, then decided she was too hot to eat. She stretched out across the settee, picking up Robert's discarded newspaper, folding it up and fanning herself with it. "Robert, aren't you warm too?"

In fact, Robert had had to place a finger between his neck and collar, he was growing so warm. But it wasn't because of the temperature of the room. Watching his wife stand there with her eyes closed, her dark locks falling around her shoulders, then lie down on the settee that way, had quickened his blood and set his heart to racing. It wasn't like he hadn't seen her walk around thus before; she often did in their bedroom at home, to the point that he was used to it – almost. And it wasn't as if they had not engaged in naughty activities in nearly every room in their home over the years. But, in all those years, she had never simply walked around any of those many other rooms naked.

Despite his initial shock, he thought now that perhaps he had been missing out.

"I am. A trifle, darling."

Robert walked over to the settee and sat next to her on the edge of it, gazing down at her, his eyes gleaming with lust. He reached his hand out to fondle a delightfully bare breast and –

"OW!" He snatched his hand back when she smacked it with the newspaper. "Cora, why did you do that?"

She gave him an annoyed stare. "Robert, I don't think you comprehend that I did not walk out here naked for your amusement. I am wretchedly, miserably hot, and I do _not_ want to be touched right now."

Now that he examined her closer, he did notice that the entire surface of her normally white skin was flushed and her hair curled around her face, sticking to it with perspiration. Becoming alarmed, his heart beat hard for a different reason. "Cora, are you alright? How do you feel?"

Her eyes closed now, Cora fanned herself again with the newspaper. "Robert, I feel like someone encircled me in hell fire. Other than that, and the fact that someone is sitting uncomfortably close to me, making it worse, I feel perfectly well."

Smarting a little at her curt tone, Robert stood up, reassured very little that she was indeed well. "Sweetheart," his voice pacifying, "what can I do? How can I help?"

"Water. Cold water."

He rushed to fulfill her demand, bringing her the glass of water and taking the newspaper to fan her while she drank it. Cora sighed with relief, but remained flushed. Thinking of something, he handed her the paper and went into the bedroom, plucking a few combs from Cora's vanity.

"Sit up a little more, darling," he requested.

She looked at him askance, but, glimpsing his face, she sat up. Robert went around the back of the sofa and carefully balanced the combs on the back of it while he gathered her hair up and twisted it into a loose knot atop her head, placing the combs in to keep it in place. He came back around to study the effect.

"Well, I'm certainly no O'Brien. But I hope it helps you feel better." He smiled at her.

Cora rubbed her bare neck and then reached out a hand to him. That and her answering smile was every much a reward to him for his efforts. He took her hand and grasped it lightly, kneeling in front of the settee, not wanting to make her any warmer.

"It feels nice, Robert. Thank you. And I apologize for snapping at you earlier. You honestly couldn't have realized how I'm feeling."

"No, I didn't. But I do now. Is there anything else I can do? Are you _sure_ you're alright?" His eyes sought reassurance.

Gently touching his face with her other hand, she smiled wider. "Yes, my love. I promise. And, in fact, I'm feeling a little cooler now too, finally." She sat up a little straighter, then bent down to give him a kiss.

Not wishing to vex her further, Robert let her kiss him, then drew back, standing up and walking over to the window, ostensibly to check that the latch was still holding it securely open. Cora had managed to completely undo him for the second time in the past half hour, but he had noticed that her skin was still rather flushed, and he didn't want his attentions to be rebuffed once more. So he stood by the window, waiting for his pulse to return to normal.

"I had thought we could take a gondola ride later this afternoon, Cora, if that suited you," he said, still facing the window.

No answer came, but he heard movement behind him, followed by footsteps. He turned and caught his breath. Cora had crossed half the distance between the settee and the window, and now fastened him with a coquettish look. Reaching up, she slowly drew the combs from her hair, intentionally tantalizing him, throwing them onto a table and shaking her tresses loose.

Robert had froze, his mouth agape as she performed this little act of seduction. Finally, after noting that her skin had gone back to its customary ivory, he breathed out, "Aphrodite," and bounded over to her, reaching her in only a few strides, shedding his jacket and tie along the way.

"My darling," he sighed, pushing her hair back behind her shoulders, moving his hands in a caressing manner down her back and over her bottom, before starting his way back up, grazing her hips and her sides – causing her to giggle slightly with the tickling sensation it produced – then molded her breasts as he had longed to do earlier.

As Robert bent in front of her and began teasing a nipple with lips and tongue, cupping her other breast in his palm, Cora was relieved that his other hand stole around her waist, since she thought her knees on the verge of buckling beneath her. After she had given several sharp gasps and pleased moans, Robert lifted his head to her mouth, dipping his tongue within its honeyed depths. Cora whimpered when he removed his hands from her body, so he broke the kiss to whisper in her ear, "I'm sorry, my love, but now _I'm_ much too warm and need to feel the air – and other things – against my skin."

Cora giggled at this and saw that he had indeed taken his hands from her to begin removing his clothing. She shifted his hands away from his half-finished shirt buttons, working on these so he could concentrate on his trousers. Flinging his garments every-which-way, they made short work of undressing him. This having been accomplished, Robert covered her mouth with his, kissing her earnestly, then put his hands under her bottom to pick her up against him. At this, Cora let out a muffled cry, then wrapped her legs around his hips.

Robert carried her a short distance until she felt herself being pressed up against a wall. His hands roamed all over her body, leaving no centimeter untouched; he even prompted her to unwrap her legs from around his waist and set them down so he could continue his appraisal of her skin. Making his way back up, he left one hand between her legs, and she thought she might be on the verge of collapse again. His lips having arrived once more at her mouth, he kissed her as he fondled her breasts each in turn, all the while creating an intense heat with his fingers and thumb. It was all she could do to keep her arms around his neck, fearing for her own ability to stand upright unaided. She groaned and sighed into his mouth, for he wouldn't leave off kissing her.

At long last her release was reached, and as Robert felt her convulse and contract around his fingers, felt her cry out her delight against his mouth and her arms tighten around his neck, his own need to feel himself inside her became acute.

"Oh God, Cora. You've driven me wild, and I'm not certain I can wait to bring you to a chair or even lie on the floor," he exhaled into her ear, his fingers still languorously gyrating inside her.

"Then what are you waiting for?" She whispered, sliding her hands down to grasp his buttocks.

This was all the encouragement Robert needed. Picking her up by the hips, he lifted her as she wrapped her legs around him once more, then settled her against him, letting out an intense moan that seemed to come from some profound depth within him. His eyes closed in a mixture of bliss and ever growing desire. Keeping his hands under her to support her weight, to move her against him, he pushed her up against the wall, thrusting into her.

Cora, wishing to do her part to intensify his pleasure, turned to her own exploration of his upper body, trilling happily at every gratified groan that escaped his lips. Then she pulled him toward her – which forced Robert to take a couple of steps closer to the wall to keep her up against it – in order to kiss his neck and jaw and nibble at his earlobes, this move producing several other satisfying results: her breasts were pressed up against his nipples, inducing the most interesting sensations for Robert as he steadily plunged into her; he had greater, deeper access to her; and the friction it caused between their bodies just above their joining sent Cora into absolute enthrallment. Soon she couldn't concentrate anymore, and simply clung to him, panting, then stiffened her legs around him as she climaxed again.

Robert's legs began to tremble at the incredible feeling of her tightening around him. "Oh holy God," he groaned out, increasing his tempo, breathing heavily. Blessedly, he didn't have to wait much longer before he had reached his own summit, pressing Cora even harder against the wall as he leaned into her, still holding her up by the hips. She placed feathery kisses all over his face, along his jawline, on the cleft of his chin, on his forehead. Robert smiled at her wearily, yet blissfully.

Thinking he must be getting exhausted holding her up, Cora made as if to untangle her legs from him. "No. Not yet," he sighed out, shaking his head. "Unless I'm hurting you."

Cora put her hands behind his head, resting her forehead on his and stroking the back of his hair. "No, you're not hurting me. But I thought you might be tired of holding me."

He smiled as he looked into her eyes, so close to his own. "I _am_ tired, but not of holding you. And I'm not ready yet."

Robert moved slightly toward the wall, and Cora understood. With their bodies pressed together thus, he remained inside her. And he didn't want to leave, to break apart from her, until he had to. The realization brought tears to Cora's eyes. "I love you," she whispered, still gazing into his eyes, their foreheads touching.

"I love you, too."

* * *

Eventually Robert sensed that his legs might actually give out on him, so he mustered up his last bit of energy to carry Cora into the bedroom and get the two of them onto the bed. Cora had to listen carefully to him: he mumbled sleepily as he moved about on the bed, getting comfortable, lying on his back. She was sure she heard him say something about arranging the gondola ride for them later, and then told her that if she got too hot, it would be alright if she needed to roll away from him to sleep.

Cora smiled at this last part and kissed him gently. "Shhh, darling. Go to sleep."

She pulled the bedclothes up over the both of them and settled herself against his side, his arm around her, laying her head on his shoulder and a hand on his chest. Soon she could feel its steady rise and fall and knew he had fallen asleep. She sighed happily, thinking back over their extremely passionate love-making. And then she remembered what had led to it.

Now Cora frowned slightly. It had not been the first time she had gotten hot like that. It had happened the night before as well, when she had refused Robert's offer to put her nightdress on her. Only that had not been nearly as intense. _So they're simply going to get worse_, she thought, sadly, sighing in a different way this time.

Lifting her head a bit, Cora fixed her eyes on her husband's tranquil face and felt like crying. He was so good to her, had always been so good to her, even before he had fallen in love with her. And if she was right, she wouldn't ever be able to give him the one thing she believed he truly wanted.

* * *

A/N: The "episode" in London that Cora describes from her dream is a story in the works. But only after I've finished this one. And that will be a while. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

27 October 1921

Shattered hopes filled Cora's dreams. Several times during the night they woke her, and she checked each time to make sure Robert was still sound asleep next to her, not wanting to find out that she had kicked him again. After every instance it took her longer to fall back to sleep, for the dreams made her anxious and sad. And unfortunately, as dawn approached, they grew longer and more vivid, clinging to her memory in a way she desperately wished they wouldn't.

When it was finally a decent hour to be awake – particularly on holiday – Cora perceived two different things. One was a thumping headache. The other was Robert, nuzzling her neck gently, unable to wait any longer for her to open her eyes. Hoping the headache might go away on its own, Cora allowed him to run his hands along her arms and kiss her tenderly on the mouth. She didn't respond very enthusiastically, but he seemed to attribute this to her being only half awake.

And then he lightly touched her abdomen, just below her navel, and it triggered a dream memory. Cora flinched and pulled away from him.

Robert froze, baffled. "Cora? What's wrong?"

His bewilderment and concern made her feel even worse. "I- I'm sorry. I just, I have a headache," she mumbled. "I think I'll just have a bath this morning. The steam… and the water…"

Cora refused to meet his eyes, but she did kiss him softly before hastily snatching up her dressing gown and disappearing into the washroom. A few moments later he heard the sound of the water running in the bath.

Utterly dumbfounded, Robert stared at the closed door of the washroom, wondering what that had been all about. Then he shook himself, deciding to leave her to her bath. He got up and did the best he could getting dressed without access to the washroom, not wanting to disturb her unnecessarily. He found himself lost in thought several times and each time had to give himself a mental shake.

He decided the time had come for another of the surprises he'd thought of for her. Grinning and nodding to himself, he knocked tentatively on the washroom door. "Cora?"

"Yes, Robert," came her voice, oddly muffled, but loud enough to make out.

He cleared his throat and raised his voice so he wouldn't have to open the door for her to hear him. "I'm going downstairs for a little while. I have a few things to see to at the front desk. Would you like me to have them send up some breakfast and set it out on the dining table for you?"

"No, thank you, Robert. I'm fine." Her voice sounded the same.

Robert heaved a quiet sigh. "Alright. I will be back in a bit."

"Alright."

Turning from the door, Robert sighed again. His wife's voice had sounded sad somehow.

Cora listened for the bedroom door to close before laying her head down upon her knees again. She sat in the enormous bathtub – one large enough for two people to fit comfortably – with her legs drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, steam wafting around her. Her head pounded relentlessly. Her thoughts also refused to relent their pounding.

After a nice long nap the afternoon before, Cora had thankfully been able to push melancholy contemplations out of her mind. Robert had finally been able to arrange their gondola ride, and they spent a romantic late afternoon and early evening watching twilight fall upon Venice, listening to the singing of the gondolier and slyly petting one another beneath the blessed concealment of the blanket.

The pair dined late in one of the hotel restaurants, images of their earlier fiery coupling passing through the minds of both, until dessert was completely forgotten in the need to seek the quiet seclusion of their suite – where they were anything but quiet. In fact, at one point the armchair – upon which Robert and Cora had flung themselves in their frantic desire to finally come together – gave an insistent creaking noise. Cora halted immediately, her eyes wide, looking down at Robert, who obviously had not heard anything, since he glanced up, perplexed. But in the next instant the chair tilted at an alarming angle, accompanied by a resounding _crack_. Robert and Cora stared at each other, holding themselves very still, not even daring to exhale for fear that they'd be pitched into the floor.

When it appeared that the chair wasn't about to break any further, their faces twitched in amusement, and they laughed together until they were fairly breathless. Then Robert very cautiously stood up, lifting Cora up with him and transferring them both to the settee. Eyes bright with laughter, their bodies shining with perspiration, they began their rhythm again, fantastically unflustered by their near plummet onto the rug.

Robert drew her close to him and, still filled with mirth, he hissed in her ear, "It's your fault you know. All that bouncing." His voice both caressed and teased.

Cora sat down hard, pulling herself away with mock indignation. "I don't _have_ to bounce!"

He simply smirked at her, wondering how she would "punish" him for his remark. "No? But I quite like when you bounce."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Cora turned her head and gave a pronounced "humph." However, her lips began to turn up in an evil grin and she peeked at his face out of the corner of her eye, as she began to painstakingly gyrate her hips on his lap.

The smirk promptly left his face, his eyes closing and a groan escaping his lips. "Oh, bloody hell, woman! Just when I think I know all the ways you can torture me…."

A smirk on her own face now, she moved in slightly faster circles and changed direction, prompting an even deeper, longer groan from her husband. Cora put her hands on his chest and said in a low voice, her lips close to his ear, "That's what you get for teasing your wife when all she wants to do is please you."

Robert opened his eyes, seeing her face lit up with merriment. He smiled. "If that's the case, then I'll be sure to tease you more often," he answered, before catching her up against him and driving his tongue into her mouth as she chuckled low in her throat.

They ended the evening in bed. Their teasing and laughing followed them into the bedroom, stimulating more love-making before they fell asleep at last, entangled in the sheets and each other….

And then the awful dreams. Nightmares woven out of her own psyche, memories the warp and her darkest imaginings and deepest fears the weft. Her head still atop her knees in the bath, Cora put her hands over her eyes, as if blocking any light from her vision would block the images from her mind. But they wouldn't go.

Those horrible things flashed through her mind again: the war years and all the wounded officers in her home… Robert's bad investment that nearly lost them Downton… carrying a dead Turk through her house and carrying Mary's secret with her after that… her beloved Sybil's death… poor Lavinia and what she could remember of her own bout with Spanish flu… helping nurse her Edith's heartbreak after being left at the altar… the time she felt she nearly lost Robert through her neglect, and, worse, when she might have lost him by deliberately pushing him away, punishing him because of the loss of Sybil… the physical and emotional trauma of her miscarriage, losing their son…

_And now_, Cora thought, _there won't be anymore chances_.

During the month or two after Sybil's death, because of her grief, Cora had understandably acted strangely, out of character, erratically. Isobel suspected something other than grief going on, and, in her tireless quest to be useful, had asked her cousin to tea one day to have a private chat. Cora would admit to reacting badly to Isobel's kindly-meant questioning about the possibility of menopause. Seething, incensed that anyone would dare to mistake her behavior for anything but the deepest and most profound grief for her beautiful baby girl, Cora's blood rushed in her ears, blocking out half of Isobel's lecture on the symptoms of "the change." Before Isobel had concluded, Cora had hastily made her excuses and rushed out of the drawing room of Crawley House before she did something she would regret. Because at that moment she sincerely desired to slap the sympathetic smile off Isobel's face.

In the last few weeks, however, Cora wished she had paid at least a little more attention to Isobel's list of symptoms. She did think she remembered quite a few of them, the most telling of them being an almost certainty though, as it had been a couple of months…. The others she remembered had also started cropping up: most significantly her dresses getting tighter and the unpredictability of her mood. And now the hot flashes.

She knew she couldn't be sure, of course, until she'd seen a doctor. She even longed to see Isobel and talk to her about it, and now thought her kindly face would be a godsend during such a discussion.

Because there was so much more to it than simply growing older. Cora honestly didn't care about that. What mattered to her was something else entirely….

And thinking about this, her headache still thumping, picturing Robert's stunned expression this morning when she pulled away from him, knowing that she couldn't tell him, to burden him with this… she started to cry. Not just noiseless tears, but great heaving sobs that racked her body and forced her to hold onto the edge of the bath for support, while she curled her body up as tightly as it would go, as if protecting it from an unseen, yet very real, attack. She stayed that way, weeping loudly, feeling like she might never stop.

In the meantime, Robert returned to the suite, leaving a small parcel on the sitting room table and heading for the bedroom. He had noticed while downstairs that in his distracted state earlier, he had forgotten his watch. As he located it and picked up, he heard a noise coming from the bathroom. Pausing to listen, he practically dropped his watch again when he realized his wife was crying.

Knocking on the door, Robert called out, "Cora? Cora, are you alright?" He knew she would know he meant _do you need me?_.

The noise stopped abruptly, then nothing for a moment. Just when Robert would have opened the door, she answered, her speech sounding somewhat strangled. "I'm fine." Another pause, and then, "I'm fine, Robert."

Robert stood there, unsure what to do. She most certainly was _not_ fine. It had been many months since he had heard his wife cry like this, and it made him ache to go to her, to comfort her as well as he could. But she had told him that she was fine. It appeared that whatever it was, she needed to go through it on her own. And so he simply said, "Alright, sweetheart," this last word meant to tell her he was there if she needed him.

Cora waited as she had waited before to hear the bedroom door close behind him before the sobs overtook her again. She _hated_ keeping things from him. Mary's secret she kept for his sake, and that was difficult enough. But this? For whose sake would she be keeping this information, this potentially final condition, from him? Once again, for his.

But she also knew it was for her own sake as well. It seemed rather selfish, but she didn't think she could actually even form the words. Speaking them would make it permanent, in her mind, and she didn't want to tell him, worry him, until she was absolutely certain.

And since she couldn't be certain of anything until she returned home and saw a doctor, Cora resolved then and there to make the most of their holiday, the lovely gift her adoring husband had given her and wanted so much for her to fully enjoy. And so… she was determined to put all of this out of her mind, as best she could, and do just that.

Having reached this decision, Cora took a deep breath, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and stepped out of the bath, pulling the plug. Instead of drying herself, however, she studied the bottles of scented oils and salts that the hotel provided while the cold water drained from the bath. Selecting one that smelled strongly of lavender and faintly of rosemary – with a label that stated clearly, in English, "for relaxation of mind and body" – Cora resolutely put the plug back in and turned on the taps, sprinkling a liberal quantity of the salts into the bath water, hoping it would help her headache finally go.

If she was going to enjoy her holiday, she was going to start right now.

* * *

Robert seated himself on the settee, twisting his watch in his hands, and feeling slightly disoriented.

Why was Cora crying?

He went over the past few days in his head, and all he could remember was a delightful tangle of sight-seeing, dinners, naps, teasing, laughing, talking, and love-making. Picturing Cora's face through all this – her joy and wonderment, her excitement and glee, her coyness and loving looks – he could barely recall any point when she had been sad or angry or even annoyed.

Well, there had been the day before when she suffered some sort of hot flush. He had annoyed her briefly, but it had ended so brilliantly…. There had been her dream before that, where she had awakened with fear in her eyes. But they had talked about that, and she had seemed perfectly fine…. And other than this, the only one who had even shown even slight signs of grumpiness or vexation had been… himself.

Frowning, Robert continued to fiddle with the watch. Perhaps something from their life at Downton had followed her on their holiday? He racked his brain, endeavoring to call up anything of which he was aware that could possibly be the cause of her tears.

Sybil's horrible passing had been over a year ago. The months just after had been a succession of hellish days for him, a torment that at the time seemed would never end. Losing Sybil, seeing the grief and heartbreak of Tom, the rest of his family, and, worst of all, his beloved Cora, who seemed to be able to forgive everyone but him…. It had truly been hell. He understood, or came to understand months later – after many painful talks, false starts, nights together and nights apart, days where they realized they had to forgive one another over and over – that Cora's hell had been worse. For as much as he blamed himself, had been blamed by her… while Cora blamed him, couldn't help blaming him, she carried the weight of guilt for doing it. And also blamed herself. Their process of grief and forgiveness and attempting to know what might be normal anymore for any of them was brutal.

But they had come through it. Passed through the fire, acquiring wounds that turned into scars that would never completely heal, but they had come out the other side. Together. And he liked to think stronger.

Robert passed a hand over his brow, rubbing it. Everything else they had been through in the past year or so seemed small compared to that ordeal. Nevertheless, they too had to be dealt with, even if most of them were with relative ease.

And then there was Sybbie. If there was anything bright, lovely, and wonderful to come from such pain and sorrow, it was that precious girl. Even thinking of her, Robert couldn't contain his smile. She was the apple of her grandpapa's eye, the image of their darling Sybil. Eventually the trauma of her mother's passing eased somewhat, and through it all Sybbie bloomed, thrived. It was as if all the love they had for Sybil, all of Sybil's love for them, was channeled into and through her daughter.

There was a kind of magic to when the grandparents got to spend an afternoon alone with Sybbie. Robert would catch Cora watching him with the baby, a tender look in her eye, and at times even pride. These glimpses of her face caused his heart to swell just as much as Sybbie herself did. Robert never made the mistake of discounting the healing these afternoons gave them, separately and together.

The several months leading to their trip to Venice, while not being perfect of course, had certainly been halcyon days compared to what had come before. Not since before the war had Robert felt bonded to his wife so strongly. So….

Why was Cora crying?

Robert was mystified.

He shook his head hard, just as one might shake a kaleidoscope to mix the pieces of colored glass up and let them fall in a different pattern. It didn't seem to work, so he let his mind wander. And suddenly the previous morning flashed in his mind, the wondering that he had pushed aside so he could soothe his wife after her dream.

There were only four very definite periods in their life together that Robert could ever remember Cora twitching and flailing and crying out in her sleep.

Robert sat up straighter on the settee, the pieces in his mind more like a puzzle than a kaleidoscope now. There was that. And then there was the eating. And, well, her increased appetite in general. When he thought over that, he realized that there had barely been a day that had passed in several months that they had not been… together. Cora had given no reason not to be.

His brows drew together in confusion. Because there were also pieces that didn't fit – and pieces that seemed to be missing. He rubbed his forehead again with both hands. If that was the answer, why was she crying? Wouldn't that be a reason for joy? But perhaps she didn't know herself. Perhaps she knew or suspected and she was afraid – or afraid of what he would say. Perhaps she didn't want it to happen…. Or perhaps it was simply a mood swing and part of the puzzle itself.

Removing his hands from his forehead, Robert closed his eyes, his expression unchanging. There were just too many holes in the puzzle to form a definite picture. And he couldn't pin his hopes on something – for a tiny corner of his heart had already fixed upon it (damn it) – based on so little. He needed more information.

But he had to be careful. Or he could damage the connection they had worked so hard over the past months to strengthen. It was something he was not willing to risk on an idle fancy.

* * *

Cora finished her bath, marveling at how much better she felt by the time the water had started to turn tepid once more. The salts seemed to have worked wonders for her headache - or maybe letting all the dark thoughts out with her sobs had done it. Either way, she felt much lighter and even hummed as she went about dressing and fixing her hair.

In the sitting room, Robert opened his eyes. She was humming. Cora never hummed unless she was content, happy. Relief filled him, and he sat there expectantly, waiting to see how she would behave, if she really was alright.

He nearly jumped when the door opened at last, even though he had been listening for it. Cora knew he must be worried, and the first thing she wanted to do was reassure him. So she crossed the room to him and sat on his lap, kissing him on the cheek.

"Cora? Are you... are you better now?" Robert studied her. Her eyes were a tad red and her fingertips still wrinkled from the bath, but she wore a soft smile. "How is your headache?" He didn't want to mention the crying if she didn't first.

Her smile widened. "I _am_ better, darling, and my headache is gone. I very much needed that bath." Cora slid her arms around his neck and stroked the back of his hair, wanting so much for him to forget what he heard, or at least be able to put it aside.

Robert wasn't sure what to say, so he put his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "You smell nice," was all he could manage to say to her.

"It's lavender and rosemary. I like the smell too." Cora could still see uncertainty in his eyes, so she tightened her arms around his neck, bringing her head down to rest on his shoulder, whispering to him, "I really am alright, my love. Everything is fine."

Embracing her, he inhaled deeply, breathing her in, wanting to believe everything really was fine. "I brought you some lovely cakes. I thought you might be hungry," he said before loosening his hold on her.

She sat up and looked over at the parcel he indicated, grinning. "I am hungry, actually." She reached for the parcel and almost fell off his lap as she snatched it up and clutched it to her, laughing brightly, genuinely.

Cora's laughter seemed to snap her husband out of his melancholy concern for her. He watched as she tore open the paper and began eating the cakes. He smiled and wiped crumbs from the corner of her mouth with his thumb.

Eyes shining as they had so often on their holiday, she beamed at Robert and asked, "What are we doing today, my darling?"

* * *

The couple continued their exploration of the city side by side and hand in hand for the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon. Cora took a short nap before dinner, having had her sleep interrupted too many times the night before, and worn out by sobbing in the bath – more than she would like to admit.

Cora had thought that dinner might be followed by dancing in the hotel's ballroom, but Robert had other plans. Once they had finished dessert and wine, he grasped her hand tightly in his and took her upstairs, his entire face alight.

"Robert, I know that look. What do you have up your sleeve?"

Attempting a look of innocence, Robert said, "Who? Me? Oh no. There's nothing up my sleeve." He lifted his arm and pretended to look up his sleeve, earning himself a slap on the arm and a peal of silvery laughter. Music to his ears.

And it seemed that music was his plan. When they opened the door to the suite, Cora's eye was drawn to the dining area, where a gramophone had been set up for them.

She turned to him as he locked the door and shrugged out of his jacket. "I thought we could have a more intimate evening, Cora. Our own ballroom." He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, with a bit of force, so she was pressed up against his chest. He drew her arm around him and placed a hand on either side of her face. "And we can dance as close to each other as we like," he said in a low voice, bending his head down to kiss her intensely.

Slightly, pleasantly, dazed, Cora slid her hand down his back and lightly patted his behind. Robert ended the kiss and grinned at her. "Now you start that and we may not get to dance at all." He kissed her briefly, then let her go, smacking her bottom as he went over to the gramophone.

Cora yelped. "Robert!" she yelled. But she was grinning.

He turned his head to wink at her before looking through the records and selecting one. Cora tugged at her evening gloves, throwing them across the broken chair and giggling. "We need to make sure we remember not to sit in that chair for the rest of our stay," she said, kicking her shoes off and pushing them underneath the table with her toe. They had examined the chair legs and decided that they looked fine, even though they knew the chair to be broken. Neither wanted to explain to Sig. Conti how they had broken it, or pay what would surely be an exorbitant amount to replace it.

Soon the strains of their favorite songs were filling the room, and they danced together, shoeless, gloveless, jacket- and tieless. They danced closer than they ever could in a ballroom, taking opportunities to fondle one another and to simply kiss as they swayed together. Eventually they were dancing shirtless, dressless, and trouserless, Cora's head relaxing on his bare chest and Robert's hands resting upon the silk of her slip covering the small of her back.

Robert leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Now, isn't this better than a ballroom?" he asked.

"Mmmm hmm," she replied. The evening had cast a most agreeable spell over her, and she was hesitant to break it by speaking.

In a few moments, Robert whispered, "Cora? The record's ended. Would you want to put another on or –" Before he could finish the question, his wife had covered his mouth firmly with hers, and he closed his eyes as she kissed him most fervently.

When she released him, he looked down at her with a wide grin. "I believe I have my answer."

Cora gazed at him steadily. "Robert, thank you. For the surprise, for the afternoon… the whole day has been lovely." Her eyes searched his, wanting him to know her sincerity and the truth in her words. "All of it."

Robert looked at her for a long moment, then rubbed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "I'm glad." His lips met hers in a kiss filled with both love and desire, and when he drew back he instantly bent down and swept her up in his arms. "Yes, the day has been terrific." Cora giggled as he nibbled on her earlobe, carrying her into the bedroom. "And the night will be terrific too," he breathed in her ear.

A delightful shiver went up her spine at this, and as soon as he had placed her on the bed, she was tugging off her slip and throwing it over the side of the bed. Robert stopped her next move by capturing her mouth with his own and lacing his fingers through hers, wanting to dazzle her with kisses before anything else. For a while he kept everything but mouths and hands apart, and every time she tried to come closer to him, he would spread their arms wide, keeping their bodies taut, a space between them.

But it was difficult to sustain this, and it wasn't long before Robert let go of her hands and put his arms around the bare skin of her back, pulling her close and pressing her breasts up against his chest. Cora sighed with delight and relief, working to remove his undergarments without removing her tongue from his mouth. Finally she had to break the kiss and laugh, at last able to rid him of his remaining item of clothing, he following suit and sliding her undergarments down and off, flinging them across the room.

Their laughter filled the suite as they continued to tease one another, each knowing just how far to take it without disappointing or hurting the feelings of the other. Then, after Cora had gotten Robert to the brink with her hands and tongue, she scooted close to where he sat up against the pillows and looked him in the eye. "Am I allowed to bounce?"

Unable to take her playful mocking any longer, he seized her by the waist and pulled her against him. "Yes," he said. "You are most emphatically allowed to 'bounce.' In fact, see this as open invitation for you to do so."

Giggling, Cora blushed bright red, and Robert comprehended as she opened her legs and maneuvered herself on top of him, that she had turned his statement into something incredibly naughty, but didn't want to say it out loud. Every so often she could be most adorably embarrassed by her own tendency to think this way. Robert loved it.

As she moved against him, Robert pulled her close so he could say to her, "You could also punish me in that delightfully torturing way that you did last night. If you wanted to, that is." He winked at her as Cora grinned wickedly at him.

Robert hoped they wouldn't break the bed that week.


	7. Chapter 7

28 October 1921

Early afternoon found Robert and Cora sailing back to the hotel. They'd just had a marvelous luncheon after spending the morning at Doge's Palace. Walking hand in hand, the two had wandered about the place, Robert telling her the different things he'd read of the history and architecture in the guide books.

As the boat glided along, Robert's hand sneaked under Cora's coat, grazing her hip. She glanced at him and chuckled as he pulled her closer. However, she had started to feel uncomfortably warm and had to practice a great deal of self-control not to push him away from her. Fortunately, the boat arrived at the hotel in record time, and she could put some distance between them as they went inside and up to their room.

When Robert started to remove her coat with that look in his eye, Cora put a hand on his shoulder, gently but resolutely.

"I'm very tired, darling. I will have a nap now, I think." She gave him a kiss and rushed into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, hoping he wouldn't decide to follow her.

His brow furrowing at this abrupt departure, Robert stood and stared at the closed door. "Curioser and curioser," he mumbled, wondering if he should check on her. Finally he shrugged his shoulders, took off his coat, and sat down with a book. How he wished he could concentrate upon it.

Meanwhile, Cora had pulled off not only coat and gloves, but every stitch of clothing she'd had on in pursuit of some relief. She dared not risk running a cold bath for fear he'd hear the water, so she settled on filling a pitcher with cold water – _he can't be wondering why I need water to drink at hand, can he?_ – and sponging herself with it. In a way, she longed to actually burst into flames so she might turn to ash and be done with it.

For almost half an hour, Cora stood by her bedside table, dipping the sponge into the water and running it over her body, only gaining a modicum of relief from this procedure. However, she kept doing it until she felt slightly better. Her skin still flushed, she stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes. _I just have to keep this from him as best as I can_, she thought. _He can't know, or he'll worry, and then I'll have to tell him_….

As she lay there, the late night, the early morning, their wanderings around Venice, and the changes happening in her own body soon caught up with her, and Cora fell into a profound slumber.

* * *

Several hours passed before Robert glanced up from his book and pulled his watch out of his pocket, frowning. After several attempts to focus on reading, he had finally managed to block everything else out except the words upon the page. But now that he had read quite a few chapters, he began to feel uneasy.

Robert resumed his contemplation of the bedroom door, the abandoned book falling closed upon his knee. His wife seemed fatigued so often lately. Not all of the time, of course. At certain times Cora acted as if her energy were boundless, Robert struggling to keep up with her. He grinned a trifle as he thought back over the past week of their holiday. When her energy was like that… it was glorious.

But then there were the naps. He knew she wasn't always sleeping well, of course. Her fidgeting and murmuring had woke him again last night, in fact. It could be as simple as that. They were active during the day – sometimes much of the night – they weren't in their own bed at home, she wasn't sleeping as well as she might, and it made her tired.

It made sense. Cora needed rest for all those reasons. Robert nodded his head briefly. But it could also be…. Now he shook his head emphatically, endeavoring to shove that idea as far back into the recesses of his brain as possible. It would fit with some of the other pieces of her behavior, of course, if that were the case, but he couldn't entertain that notion seriously. Not yet.

Looking at his watch again, Robert deliberated over whether he should go and wake her. It was not so very late, but, to be honest, he was bored and he missed her. At home was different. There were plenty of other things to occupy his mind and his time. Of late he'd done his very best to make sure that estate business didn't take too up too much of his time, because he wanted to give her as much of it as he possibly could. She also kept busy with running the house, visiting, writing letters, helping Tom with Sybbie, and various other tasks. But Robert and Cora's time alone together had become sacred, essential, and both of them took it very seriously.

Robert sighed and put the book on the table beside him, standing up. He paced the length of the sitting room and back, ending up in front of the bedroom door. Not able to wait any longer, he reached down and turned the doorknob as quietly as possible. If nothing else, he could watch her sleep.

After noiselessly shutting the door, he turned, astounded by the sight with which he was met. Cora had developed a positive talent for catching him unawares over the past several days, he mused. Stunned as he was by the sight of his wife napping completely unclothed, not even covered by so much as a sheet, he couldn't be bothered to ask why. Instead he tiptoed closer to her.

Dragging a chair cautiously to her bedside, Robert sat down, silently regarding his wife's form with admiration, appreciation, and gratitude. This magnificent creature, this delicate nymph, whose naked body he was sure could inspire the most accomplished and celebrated of Italian painters – and they would still never do justice to her exquisite beauty… she was all his.

Robert's heartbeat sped up as he considered the lovely things he would like to do to please her right now. He considered them, and he grew slightly warm and uncomfortable sitting there, but he held back. As he continued to caress her with his eyes, he believed he could discern a small change. Her curves appeared rounder, softer in a way. Apprehending this, he sat up a little straighter in the chair, wondering if this were simply the result of her increased appetite, or those two were related more significantly….

Before he could cogitate upon this, however, Cora's eyes opened, instantly smiling at seeing Robert there gazing at her, catching at his heart. Smiling in return, he put his hand in hers.

"What are you doing sitting there, darling?" she asked, stretching a little.

Watching her stretch only served to entice him further. "I was admiring my beautiful wife, and thanking God that she's mine alone."

Cora turned onto her side, transferring his hand to her other one so she could prop herself up on her elbow. "Were you now?" Her blue eyes sparked with mischief.

"Yes, and it was all I could do not to crawl up beside you and wake you so I could worship you properly."

"Well, darling. I'm awake now." She squeezed his hand to punctuate the statement, making it into an invitation.

Robert grinned. "Yes, you most certainly are."

She let go his hand and patted the bed beside her. He all but overturned the chair in his haste to join her on the bed. Within seconds he was kissing her and laying her back against the blankets.

Cora broke the kiss and pushed at his chest. "No fair, darling. You're still clothed," she teased.

"Shhhhh…" He attempted to cover her mouth with his again, but she giggled and slipped out from underneath him, sliding off the other side of the bed.

"You're going to have to change for dinner soon anyway, Robert. You might as well get undressed," she pointed out.

Grinning, he groped at his tie, grasping an end and pulling it, then shrugging off his jacket.

"Not enough!" she cried, and suddenly darted to the bedroom door, looking back at him with bright eyes. "You can't have me until you've completely disrobed." She opened the door and disappeared behind it.

Bemused, and yet oddly fascinated by her actions, Robert worked with his shirt buttons as he walked across the bedroom, kicking his shoes off and out of the way as he went. "Cora…?" he called, stepping into the sitting room.

He saw his wife perched calmly on the settee, smirking at him. When he got near her, however, his shirt now discarded, she jumped up, giggling, and dashed over to the dining area, wagging her finger back and forth at him.

"I still see trousers," she said.

Robert ambled toward her, undoing trouser buttons, becoming eager to play her game – as long as it ended the way he wanted it to. He paused to drape the trousers over the broken chair before approaching her. Again, he got very close to her before she rushed away, her giggles following after her – as he was meant to do.

Cora stopped by the bedroom door, turning so she could watch him strip off his undergarments, her expression becoming less playful and more lustful. When he'd thrown these so they landed on top of the trousers, he put his hands on his hips and looked at her.

"You can catch me now," Cora stated, waiting for him to move.

"Well, now, I'm not sure I want to." He strode over to the settee and sat down, picking up the newspaper and opening it, hiding his grin behind it.

Flustered a bit by this turn of events, Cora went over to the settee and crouched upon it, turned toward him. The newspaper concealed her husband's face, so she placed her hand on top of it and determinedly pushed it down. At last, he was no longer hidden, and she got one fleeting glimpse of his wide grin before he threw the paper on the floor and captured her in his arms, well and thoroughly kissing her.

Once they both needed to stop to breathe, he smiled at her. "Caught you."

"You cheated!" Cora exclaimed.

Robert's mouth fell open in mock astonishment. "I did not! I simply changed the game a little." He rubbed his hands lightly up and down her back.

Her eyes narrowed a bit as she said, "I'll give _you_ a game change." With that, she leapt out of his arms and off the settee, laughing as she rushed toward the bedroom.

But this time, Robert was ready for her. He jumped up seconds after she had, and met her just before she reached the bed. She shrieked in delight as he snatched her up by the waist and threw her on the bed, laughing as he cried out, "Minx!"

Cora tossed a look over her shoulder as she scrambled on all fours toward the other side of the bed, laughing too. Robert climbed up behind her and put his hands on her hips, stopping her and pulling her toward him.

His mouth close to her ear, he mumured in a husky voice, "Well and truly caught this time. Fair and square."

She turned her head slightly. "I concede your victory. Now, you might claim your prize." Cora gave a low chuckle.

"Oh, I plan to do just that." Robert nudged her legs a little wider apart with his knee before he pushed into her, kissing the curve of her neck. She made an appreciative noise, which pleased and encouraged him.

Cora pressed herself back against him as they found a mutually satisfying cadence. Robert supported his weight with one hand, reaching the other around to touch the base of her throat. Starting there, he lightly, purposefully ran his hand down her front, lingering at her breasts, cupping each in turn for a few lovely moments, then down her rib cage and stopping again at her abdomen. As he grazed his fingers softly here, two words surfaced above the haze of pleasure currently in his mind: _What if?_ And all of a sudden he needed to see her face.

As Robert pulled away from her, Cora only had time to get out a confused, "Robert?" before he'd turned her gently over, covering her with his body. She looked at him, still slightly perplexed, but the adoration in his eyes and his soft smile reassured her. He caressed her face with both hands, whispering, "I love you, Cora."

"I love you too, Robert," she whispered back, smiling up at him.

Using one hand, he grasped one of her legs, indicating to her she should wrap them around his waist. Once she had, Robert bent his head down and kissed her passionately, lovingly, as he slowly entered her again. He slipped his hands underneath her, pressing her to his chest, feeling her heart beat against him. Cora twined her fingers through his hair, unable to get enough of his kisses.

It wasn't too long before they had each reached sweet release. After a while holding one another, recovering, Robert propped himself up on one elbow, his head in his hand, looking down at her and playing with her hair. Cora smiled at him, running her fingers lightly along his arm.

"Sweetheart, it's getting late," Robert said as he finally noticed how dark it was outside. "Didn't you want to go downstairs for dinner and dancing?"

Cora grinned. "I did. And I have a surprise for _you_ this time."

"You do?" he asked, his interest piqued.

She nodded. "Yes. I do. Let's get washed up, and then you'll see." Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Just one moment." Smiling, he bent down to press a tender kiss to her lips, his hand cupping her face.

They got up unhurriedly, freshening themselves in the washroom, pulling out garments and getting ready. Cora, however, sat in her dressing gown at the vanity, taking great care over her coiffure while Robert dressed.

"Cora? Don't you usually dress before doing that?" he asked, genuinely puzzled, putting his tie around his collar.

She glanced at him briefly, a sly smile playing about her lips. "Never you mind, Robert. It's part of the surprise."

"I hope you're not planning on going downstairs in your dressing gown," he chuckled, stepping into the washroom for the mirror, so he could tie his tie properly.

Cora merely rolled her eyes and chortled at this ridiculous statement as she selected earrings.

After he was satisfied with his tie, he walked back into the bedroom and looked at his wife. "Are you nearly ready?"

"Yes, I am. I just have to put my dress on. But I want to do that alone. So, shoo." She added emphasis to this by standing up and taking him by the arm, pulling him toward the door.

"Alright, alright, darling. No need to yank my arm out of its socket." He laughed and went into the sitting room to wait.

A few minutes passed, and then Cora emerged from the room in a brand new dress. Robert eyed her up and down appreciatively as she turned all the way around so he could see the back as well. He beamed. "You look stunning, my dear. Truly stunning."

She looked down at herself and then back up at him nervously. "It's a little more revealing than anything I've ever worn. Are you sure it's alright?"

The dress certainly was revealing. A rich chocolate brown, complementing the color of her hair, it was cut in one of the newest styles, sleeveless, the neckline plunging and the hemline reaching just below the knee. The back of the dress was a deep U-shape which extended almost to the small of her back, draping folds of fabric framing a lavish expanse of bare skin.

Absolutely dazzled, Robert stepped in front of her to kiss her again, then moved his head to breathe close to her ear, "Now I'm not sure if I want to take you anywhere. I might like to have you all to myself tonight."

Cora giggled. "And what would we do if we stayed in?"

Running his fingers lightly over a bare shoulder, he said, "I don't know, but I'm not sure you'd be wearing that dress for long."

Taking one large step back, Cora grinned at him. "That might be a waste of the dress, don't you think?"

Robert smiled back. "Not in my mind, it wouldn't." He took her by the hand. "However, I did promise you I'd take you downstairs for dinner and dancing, and I will stand by my word. Although how I'm going to keep a proper distance away from you whilst we dance, I'll never know."

Picking up her evening shawl, Cora followed Robert out of the suite and downstairs, wrapping her arm around his. As they entered their chosen restaurant for the evening, Robert surveyed the room. He led Cora to their table, and his chest swelled with pride. His wife was not only undeniably the most beautiful woman in the restaurant, she so far outshone any of the other women that nearly all the diners watched as they took their seats.

Cora tore into the bread basket as soon as it was brought to the table, the exertions of the afternoon and the lack of tea having made her ravenous. While she sought to mollify her hunger pangs with bread, she chatted animatedly with her husband.

After a little while, however, she noticed that their dialogue had become a monologue. She looked up from the bread and glanced at Robert. He wasn't looking at her at all, though; instead he appeared to be glowering at the room in general, his disapproving gaze sweeping over everything around them.

"Robert?" Cora couldn't imagine what had affected him so. "Robert, is everything alright?"

After a moment, Robert brought his attention back to his wife. "Cora, I think you should put on your wrap."

She drew away from him a little in her chair, perplexed. "Whyever for?"

"Just do as I say," he nearly growled, not looking at her. As they were happily conversing before, Robert had felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He'd started to glance around, and quickly ascertained that most of the men in the room were unabashedly gawking at his wife.

He didn't like it.

Cora recoiled from his angry tone and dictatorial words. Through gritted teeth, endeavoring to remain as calm as possible, she answered, "No, Robert. The room is quite stuffy, and I don't want to wear it."

Robert turned his eyes upon her, his face growing red. "Cora, put it on. Now."

Her eyes began to throw out blue sparks. "No. I will not. And I will thank you not to speak to me like that." She had finally realized what had irritated him so, and it annoyed her that he was being so ridiculous about it.

"If you don't, I will take you back upstairs right now." He breathed heavily, incensed at her stubborn refusal to grant him this one request. He threw his serviette down upon the table and stood, wanting very much to block Cora from the view of as many men as possible.

"Robert," she hissed, growing more furious by the second, "you are making a scene. Sit down!"

Nearly clouting an unsuspecting waiter who was unfortunate enough to be walking by their table, Robert threw out his arms and raised his voice, bellowing, "It doesn't matter, does it?! Every man in the room is already leering at you, Cora!" His face had taken on an alarming shade of red and perspiration beaded upon his brow.

Cora glared up at him. "I can't believe you're acting in this petulant way. You might as well be a child throwing a tantrum. If you didn't want me to be seen in this dress, why did you not order me to turn around and change when we were upstairs?"

Robert's head began to pound, and he was finding it difficult to catch his breath properly. It hadn't been like that at all, he thought. He and Cora both knew it was jealousy, plain and simple, that he couldn't countenance other men ogling his wife. But he managed to puff out, "I wouldn't dream of telling you to change, Cora. You are an adult, and who am I to tell you what to wear?"

Clutching at his chest, Robert sat down, hard, screwing his eyes shut and gasping for air. _No, not again_, he thought.

Panic-stricken, Cora rushed over to him, kneeling by his chair, utterly unaware of anything around her. "Robert, darling, please. What's wrong?" Her heart dropped down into her stomach as she watched him, her face going deathly white. She clasped the hand that wasn't still gripping his chest.

Her voice, so full of distress, resonated in his ears, and seemed to bring him back to himself. There was still a sharp pain in his chest, but he began to breathe somewhat easier. He squeezed her hand, trying to soothe her at least that much, since speaking was still too difficult just yet.

Cora had taken up his serviette from the table, wiping his glistening forehead with it, speaking encouraging words in hushed, gentle tones, urging him to speak to her, to tell her what to do.

Robert felt the pain in his chest let up, and he took a deep breath. "Cora," he whispered.

Resisting the impulse to throw her arms around him, still not knowing what was wrong or what could make it worse, Cora had to be satisfied with kissing his hand. "Robert, please, tell me that you're alright."

Opening his eyes and turning to her, he removed his hand from his chest and touched her face. "I'm alright, darling. At least, I think I am."

Unable to resist any longer, she stood and wrapped her arms tightly around him, bursting into tears. Robert pulled her onto his lap, embracing her, whispering endearments and assurances in her ear. "Please don't cry, sweetheart. Please don't cry."

Lifting his eyes as he did his best to comfort her, Robert noticed several nervous waiters gathered around their table. Seeing that they had at least part of his attention, one came forward and tentatively asked in a thick Italian accent, "Is everything quite alright, your lordship? Might we send for a doctor?"

Robert shook his head. He had experienced this many times before, in times of extreme upset – the most recent bouts being after nearly losing Cora to Spanish flu and realizing what an ass he'd made of himself while she fought for her life, at having found out he'd lost all her money with that bad investment, and just after Sybil's death – and he had asked Dr. Clarkson about it. Clarkson had told him it was common, but that he should try not to upset himself into having these attacks on a regular basis.

Understanding that the waiters had probably been standing there for quite a while, originally drawn to their table by his angry outburst, he grew embarrassed. He'd never suffered from this in front of anyone before. He had never even told Cora. He would have to remember to tip them handsomely for their trouble. "I'm well enough now. I apologize for creating a scene."

Cora's grasp upon him tightened when she heard this, and he wasn't sure if the action was out of relief or fear. Her tears had slowed at least, and he reached for his water glass, drinking it down while he held her close.

"Cora?"

Sitting up, Cora gazed at him. "Robert." She rested her hands on his chest, her face tear-stained, her expression a mixture of relief and anxiety. "I think we should go back upstairs now."

Brushing an errant lock of hair back from her face, Robert nodded and helped her up, standing up beside her. She gathered her things off the table and clung to his arm as they left the room – not looking at anyone else.

Once back upstairs, Cora led Robert into the bedroom, depositing him in a chair as she wordlessly busied herself – filling his water pitcher and making sure it and a glass were on his bedside table, disappearing into the sitting room and reappearing with the books he'd been currently reading, retrieving a couple of handkerchiefs from his wardrobe, placing these items on the bedside table as well.

Robert observed her as she went about these tasks, still flawlessly beautiful in the new dress. He leaned back in the chair, quietly taking deep breaths, one hand pressed to his chest where the pain steadily dwindled. But the pain wasn't what bothered him. It was guilt.

So when Cora came up to him and motioned for him to stand so she could help him undress, her forehead creased with concern, he protested, not wanting to trouble her any further. "Cora, please don't fuss. I feel perfectly al—"

He stopped mid-sentence when he saw that she was near tears again. He hastened out of the chair, pressing a kiss to her furrowed brow and firmly embracing her. "No, please… Cora, I'm sorry. You can fuss over me all you like, sweetheart."

Still not speaking, Cora sighed deeply against him, then stepped back and loosened his tie. He let her help him undress, step into his nightclothes, and lead him to the bed. She drew the covers up around him, tenderly, then, when he feared she might leave, she kicked her shoes off instead. Sitting at the dressing table, she removed her jewelry and pulled the pins out of her hair. She shook her dark curls loose, and they almost completely concealed the part of her back that the dress left bare. Robert's chest constricted somewhat, but only because guilt plagued him.

Not bothering to brush her hair, she climbed onto the bed, cuddling up to him, pulling one of his hands toward her and studying it.

Robert wanted her to say something. To reprimand him for his reprehensible performance downstairs. Instead, Cora seemed to show nothing but concern for what had happened as a result. She couldn't know, and he didn't want her to know, but he was certain he had brought that attack upon himself, having gotten himself worked up so thoroughly.

He wasn't sure what to say, but he had to say something. And perhaps it would be easier when she wasn't looking at him with fear and relief and concern written across her face.

"Cora, I'm sorry. I had no right to speak to you like that. To make a scene in a public place."

Her voice came very softly, her fingers still tracing over the lines in his hand. "To get absurdly outrageously, and irrationally jealous."

Robert sighed. "Yes." He took her hand in his now, copying her motions and tracing the lines on her palm. "I worked myself into a jealous rage and it led to…" He still didn't want to tell her it wasn't the first time it had happened, to cause her greater worry, so he left it at that and continued. "I absolutely ruined your evening. We didn't even get to eat dinner."

She was watching him run his fingers over her hand, scared that if she looked at his face, saw what she knew would be there, what was already in his voice – remorse and shame – she would cry again. It _was_ his fault. He _had_ been in the wrong and acted preposterously. But she knew also that he had acted thus from a profound need to protect her, to keep her safe.

Because there had been one other time in the past few months when Robert had acted thus, and that was when they had been in London together, and a gentleman had set his sights upon her. Cora trembled at the memory, the subject of her dream the other morning. She believed Robert must have had the image of that man grabbing her arm somewhere in his mind when he perceived so many men eyeing her tonight.

She was right. That image was the exact one that prompted Robert to request that she conceal her charms from the rest of the room. His rage had stemmed from that memory.

Yet he knew it did not excuse his behavior.

Robert lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I'm sorry, darling. I'm so very sorry. Please forgive me. I was stupid and jealous, and I acted foolishly, and I am even more sorry that I shouted at you." He continued to press soft kisses on her hand. "My dearest one, most exquisite, wonderful, darling girl."

Cora looked up at him at last. "I do forgive you, my love. Just, please…" Her eyes filled with worry. "Please don't ever frighten me like that again. I don't think I can handle it."

He wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her. She nestled closer and relaxed against him. After about half an hour, his regular, deep breathing told her he was asleep. Very carefully, so as not to wake him, she extricated herself from his arms, kissing his temple tenderly before sneaking out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Calling down to the front desk, she ordered a large meal to be sent up, placing a hand over her rumbling stomach. When the waiter got there, she directed him to put the dishes on the table in the sitting room, then tipped him generously before sitting down on the settee and eating with great appetite.

After covering the empty dishes back up again, Cora stretched out on the settee, crossing her arms over her chest and tucking her bare feet behind a pillow. Robert had certainly alarmed her tonight, and that, combined with the memory of her earlier hot flash and what it meant to her, was too much. Cora lay there and cried herself to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

29 October 1921

Cora stared out the darkened sitting room window, both hands wrapped around a glass mug almost full of coffee. She took a sip as she watched the dark clouds moving across the sky, rain pouring down into the canals. Very few boats skimmed across the water today, as people wanted to stay inside, out of the dreary weather.

The dark and gloomy weather reflected Cora's mood.

She heaved a deep sigh as she drew the blanket she'd retrieved from the bedroom earlier tighter around her shoulders and drank another sip of the coffee, letting it warm her – as her thoughts couldn't. Cora had awakened on the settee from a disjointed, sometimes hazy dream, but with several extremely vivid images that had imprinted themselves irrevocably on her mind.

They kept coming to her, unbidden. The three girls, when they were small, Mary and Edith quarrelling over something or another, Sybil wanting more tea cakes than she was allowed – and Cora relenting because of her sweet smile and sweet disposition. And there was a fourth child in the room, this one far more shadowy and out of focus than the others, a little boy. He was barely a toddler, and he kept to a corner of the room, quiet, especially in comparison to the boisterous cries and chattering of the three girls.

Cora shivered again as her mind called up these pictures. Continuing to stare into the drear of the Venetian day, her thoughts turned to the next set of images the dream had produced. Little Sybil, scarcely three, she would say, hand in hand with a boy just able to toddle along beside her. Sybil took great care to go slowly enough for the lad to keep up with her, turning to beam at him every moment or so, prattling spiritedly to him non-stop. The boy had his face screwed up in concentration upon walking, cautiously sticking one foot out in front of the other, clinging to his companion's hand as if to a lifeline.

The boy's face bore a striking resemblance to the few photographs that Cora's mother-in-law had of her son at that age; the boy looked just like Robert.

The mug felt unsteady in her hands as the picture flashed through her mind, and the blanket slipped a bit off her shoulders. She blinked back tears, drinking more coffee in a desperate effort to rid her throat of the lump that had formed there. The only thing she could think was that this was her darling lost Sybil taking care of the son they had also lost, had never got to meet.

Cora had woken from this dream just after dawn had broken. Not long after, she had slipped quietly into the bedroom, where Robert continued to sleep. She felt his forehead and kissed his cheek, satisfied that he slept soundly.

Then, without warning, she felt quite ill, and made it to the washroom just in time. She tried to remember if Isobel had listed this as a symptom but simply couldn't be certain she had. Splashing water on her face, Cora left the washroom, pulled a spare blanket off a chair in the bedroom, and closed the door behind her, looking out upon the grey day, the dream children refusing to leave her.

_Someone should have mentioned how utterly sadistic menopause is_, she thought, sitting on the settee and picking up a room service menu.

Cora wondered if she should wake Robert for breakfast and decided against it. _Let him rest_. So she rang down to the desk and ordered breakfast for herself, still feeling rather queasy, but even the idea of eggs seemed to calm her stomach.

Also, she ordered a large pot of coffee to be brought up. Feeling as close to chuckling as she had since the first part of dinner last night, Cora had shaken her head while perusing the breakfast pages of the menu. She'd never looked at that part of the menu before, as Robert, being the one generally awake and dressed first, always ordered breakfast for them. But he had not once ordered coffee for her. Not asking why, she'd naively supposed the hotel did not serve coffee at breakfast. Yet here it was – several varieties, in fact – on the menu.

_One might think that over thirty years of marriage would impress upon the memory of even the most typically English of men that his wife preferred coffee to tea in the morning_, she thought. Still shaking her head in amusement, Cora recalled how she'd had to do battle to get the household to take seriously her request to always have coffee in the larder and on her breakfast tray. Robert had only joined her side of that battle after they'd been married for a while and he'd taken to sleeping in the same room with her at night. Then he witnessed the difference between his wife with her morning coffee – and his wife without. The improvement in her mood upon liberal quantities of that beverage was enough to recruit him to her cause without delay.

However, over the years the workings of the household had become so routine that he seemed to have forgotten details like that. Cora shrugged, recognizing that she too had most likely overlooked or forgotten some of the minutiae of his life. They seemed to each remember the most important things in their marriage, and that was all that mattered to her. It was the servants' job to ensure there was coffee.

On this particular morning – following the disturbing events of the previous evening, a night spent huddled on the settee, the unnerving dreams, and now the cold and miserable weather – and not having had coffee since their stint on the Orient Express, Cora looked forward very much to drinking copious amounts of hot Italian coffee.

After she'd eaten a hearty breakfast, she telephoned downstairs for a waiter to come clear the breakfast things, then told him to make sure that there was a fresh pot of coffee brought up to their suite at least once every two hours. She pressed a princely tip into his hand once he had assured her it would be seen to by him personally. He gave her a wide grin and took the breakfast things with him.

Sighing, Cora glanced at the closed bedroom door, knowing that what Robert probably needed most right now was uninterrupted sleep. She dared not risk waking him by going in there again, even to change clothes, so she stood there in her new dress. She looked down at it, appreciating once more the rich brown color, the thing that had drawn her to it in the first place, and wondered if she'd ever be able to wear it again without associating it with Robert's blind fury and sudden attack. Heaving another sigh, she wrapped the spare blanket around her bare back and shoulders, hoping she could stop trembling. She didn't know if the trembling was because of the chill in the room or her own thoughts.

Her eyes scanned the sitting room for something to do, to occupy her mind. They rested upon a list of hotel services. Taking this up in one hand, the mug of coffee in the other, she walked to the window and read over the list by the dim light. Cora spent over a quarter of an hour reading over these, thinking several of them sounded perfect for a rainy afternoon – as this would probably prove to be. She most likely would not be able to talk Robert into any of them, but, if she were honest, she thought perhaps an afternoon to herself might be just the thing she needed. Her mood could not be good for either of them.

By now it was midmorning, and Cora put the list and the coffee mug back on the sitting room table so she could open the bedroom door a crack to peek in at Robert. Still he slept on. She wasn't sure whether to be worried or not.

Closing the door again, she poured herself another mug of coffee, inhaling the strong, delicious fragrance. She went back to the window, tugging the blanket up over her shoulders and cupping the coffee mug in her hands. She thought she might read, but knew her mind was too full to really concentrate. So she stood there, her eyes turned toward the window, staring out without truly taking much in. It was all a grey haze to her, the images in her mind presenting a greater reality than the world outside the foggy panes of glass.

Cora went over and over the previous night in her head. These scenes from her waking memory and the ones from her sleeping memory vied for control – neither agreeable to her. She attempted to evoke the more amiable events from yesterday: playing a most delightful form of tag with her husband, his catching her up on the bed and the thrill of what happened after, his initial reaction to her new dress…. These events faded before she could get a tight enough hold on them, unfortunately, to properly relive them, leaving in their wake the unhappier thoughts – and the melancholy, anxious emotions that arose with them.

A knock at the suite door interrupted Cora's reverie. She glanced at the clock; it was almost noon, and the waiter had come with a new pot of coffee, as promised. Cora realized that for an hour and a half she had been absentmindedly going between window and table to pour herself coffee when she'd drained the mug, because the original pot was empty. The waiter exchanged the two and asked if she needed anything more.

Sighing, Cora decided it was time to wake Robert. The waiter left with a luncheon order as well as the empty coffee pot. Before she'd reached the bedroom door, however, Cora stopped. She sat down on the settee with a sharp intake of breath. The fuzziest part of the dream had just become clear to her.

She and Robert were in a nursery. It was not one she recognized, but still it seemed familiar somehow. Sybil sat on Cora's lap, the little girl perhaps two, clinging to Cora's arms, giggling. Robert held in his arms a newborn baby boy. Her husband's face was all alight, looking alternately at Cora, Sybil, and then down at the baby. The only feelings in the dream Cora's heart were joy and pride.

For the Cora who sat on the settee in a hotel suite in Venice, though, the only feelings were those of loss, its cold hand gripping her heart. She stared straight ahead, her mind reeling.

Robert found her this way when he came out of the bedroom ten minutes later, brushed and dressed. Cora's face was white, and she seemed completely unaware that he'd entered the room.

"Cora? Darling?" He sat beside her and took her hand in his.

Finally she turned to him. "Yes?" she asked, her voice and eyes devoid of any emotion.

Pressing her hand gently, Robert looked at her with concern. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

Cora blinked a few times, rapidly, then did her best to put a smile on her face, but it was only the ghost of her usual bright smile. "Yes, yes, I'm fine." She kissed his cheek. "I hope you slept well. I didn't want to wake you. And I ordered luncheon. I'm sure you're hungry."

"Yes, I _am_ hungry. But I'm also a bit worried about you. You don't seem yourself. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Perfectly fine, Robert. That will be the luncheon." The knock at the door brought her to her feet, and she released his hand to let the waiter in so he could set up the meal.

For the first time in many days, Cora found herself without much appetite. She picked at her food while Robert had two helpings, not having had anything for almost an entire day. She watched him eat, relieved at least that he seemed recovered or nearly so. He watched her, wondering what could be the matter – and whether his performances last night were to blame for her strange mood.

Putting down his serviette, Robert broke the almost complete silence that had reigned during the meal. "Cora, I know I'm not the most perceptive of men, but despite your telling me you're alright, I can tell that you're not. Will you please tell me what is wrong? Are you still upset about last night?"

Cora shrugged. "No… yes… I'm worried, Robert."

"Cora, I got worked up. That's all. Now I've had a nice long sleep and a good meal, and I'm fine."

"You should see a doctor." Her voice held a note of urgency.

Robert sighed. "I don't _need_ to see a doctor. I'm _fine_." The weight of guilt on his conscience forced him to speak more sharply than he liked. He stood up and looked out the window, angry at himself, knowing she was only concerned.

Clearing her throat, Cora stood up, having made a decision. She didn't think she could stay in the hotel room very long with her husband in this stubborn mood. "The weather is not conducive for sight-seeing today, Robert, so I'm going downstairs to have a massage."

Realizing he'd probably upset her, Robert turned and walked over to her, grasping her hand and kissing her cheek. "No, please, I'm sorry, darling. Don't leave."

"No, Robert. It will be good for both of us, I think." She very gently extracted her hand from his and went to put on her shoes and get her handbag. "I'll be back in an hour or two."

"But…" He didn't know what to say to stop her. Perhaps she was right.

He stared at the door after it closed behind her, feeling as if, of late, he'd done an awful lot of staring at doors behind which his wife had disappeared.

* * *

_A massage might have been exactly what I needed_, Cora thought after the therapist left.

As the therapist's capable hands had worked over her tense muscles, a peaceful feeling had washed through her body. She smiled as she lay there with her eyes closed, the scent of the oils calming her troubled mind. This really was the way to have a holiday.

When she went to put her dress back on, Cora remembered her promise to herself from the other morning, her promise to enjoy her holiday. But she had allowed herself to be veered off course by dream images and fears brought on by the previous night's events – fears that Robert had assured her were unnecessary. She remembered how his face had looked as she walked out the door, full of apology and confusion, and his desire for her to stay there with him writ plainly upon it, and suddenly wanted to make it up to him.

Grinning to herself, she made one adjustment to her attire before putting her shoes on, placing a small item in her handbag, then leaving to go back upstairs.

Robert looked up from where he'd been reading the newspaper – or trying to – on the settee. Cora hummed as she closed and locked the door behind her. Her humming was a good sign, but he didn't want to push his luck.

"Was it a nice afternoon, Cora?" he asked hesitantly. Before she could answer, he mentioned, "A waiter brought up a pot of coffee just a little while ago. He told me that you had ordered it."

Cora walked over to the sitting area, slipped off her shoes again, and threw her handbag on the broken chair. "I did," she said. She tugged the newspaper out of his hands and put it on the table, then slid neatly into his lap, putting her arms around his neck. "And I did."

Placing his hands on her waist, Robert looked up at her smiling face. It was a genuine smile, one with a touch of mischief to it, and he couldn't help smiling in return. "Feeling better, I see," he observed, hoping that she would allow now that she had not been quite right earlier.

Brushing one of her hands through the silver-streaked hair at his temple, she merely said a "yes," before bending her head to kiss him, not wasting any time to part his lips and slip her tongue between them.

Robert tightened his hands around her waist as he leaned back and pulled her against him. She smelled heavenly, and his senses swam as her soft hair fell around them once she'd reached back to pluck out the few combs that had held it in place. Reaching down, he placed a hand just below Cora's knee and started stroking her leg, making his way underneath her skirt. Her skin was even silkier than usual from the massage oils, and he took his time running his hand up her thigh. She sighed with pleasure, kissing his neck gently.

As superbly distracted as he was with her attentions and the glorious feel of her skin, he reached her waist underneath her dress, skimming his hand over her hip, before he apprehended that something was missing.

"Cora?" His hand had gone still.

"Yes, darling?" She paused barely long enough to ask the question.

Not sure how to ask her delicately, he just blurted out, "Where are your undergarments?"

Cora continued undoing his shirt buttons, having already divested him of jacket and tie. "In my handbag."

Robert pulled his hand from beneath her dress and grasped her upper arms, forcing her to stop and look at him. "Might I ask why?"

She tilted her head at him. "To be honest, I thought it would be a nice surprise for you, so I took them off after my massage."

Astounded, Robert let go her arms and stood up, Cora unceremoniously falling off his lap and onto the settee with a soft thud. "You walked through the hotel like that?!"

Cora drew her brows together. "You act as if I walked around in my chemise or in white muslin with nothing underneath! No one could tell!"

Throwing his arms in the air, Robert started to walk around the sitting area. "Good God, Cora, what's gotten into you?!"

She sat up, a trifle irritated that her plan had gone awry. "I hoped _you_ would!"

He stopped pacing and gaped at her as her face turned bright red.

Bending down, Robert shunted the newspaper off the table and onto the floor, shuffling the other pieces of paper on the table until he located the services list and began scanning it.

"Robert, what are you doing?" Cora scrunched up her face in confusion.

His eyes remained on the list. "I'm endeavoring to figure out just what in the bloody hell sort of massage you got that made you want to walk around the hotel without any undergarments on!"

Cora sighed, slightly exasperated. "Again, you're making it sound worse than it is. I came straight from the hotel spa upstairs. It's not like I went into one of the restaurants and had a meal! I don't even think I passed anyone on the stairs."

Robert peered warily at her from over the top of the paper.

"I'm sorry, Robert! I simply felt so nice after my massage and so badly about how ornery I was earlier... I see now it was bad idea. If it bothers you so much, I'll put them back on." She got up from the settee and started toward the broken chair where she'd deposited her handbag.

But Robert's mind had been working furiously while she was talking, only half listening to what she was saying. When she got close enough to him, he stuck his arm out, snaking it around her waist and pulling her to him. "Oh no, you don't." He bent down to kiss her enthusiastically, dropping the list on the floor. When he lifted his head again, he said, "It would be a shame to put them back on. When all you were doing was thinking of me." He gave her a wide grin.

She gave him a fake pout and looked down, fiddling with one of his shirt buttons. "I really was."

Robert put a finger under her chin and lifted her head. "I know. Shall we start again? I promise I'll react the way you were hoping." Now he couldn't stop grinning at her, thinking about her bare skin beneath the dress.

Sighing dramatically, in mock acquiescence, she replied, "Alright then. Remind me how we began?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.

He covered her lips with his, parting them with his tongue. He walked her over to the settee, kissing her all the while, sitting and pulling her onto his lap. His hand worked up her leg a little quicker now, then lingering where her undergarments would normally have been between his fingers and her skin. As Cora continued where she'd been interrupted with his shirt buttons, bending down to kiss his exposed chest, Robert cupped her bottom, kneading it gently. His other hand trailed down her bare back, as she was still wearing the new dress from the night before.

His shirt now unbuttoned, he stood again, carefully standing her up with him, tugging the shirt off all the way and starting on his trousers. When she would have taken off her dress, Robert leaned close to her and whispered, "Leave it." Cora giggled and simply helped him with his trousers.

Once Robert had finished undressing, he sat on the settee, pulling Cora onto his lap again. He looked into her eyes as he wrapped one arm around her waist and slipped his other hand under her dress once more. He watched her reactions as he grazed her hip and ran the tip of a finger along her inner thighs. She closed her eyes and made soft trilling sounds as he caressed her abdomen and slid his hand up farther to cup a breast, running his thumb over a nipple. Robert's hand traveled over every inch of skin beneath her dress before parting her legs a little more and resting his fingers at their juncture.

Cora opened her eyes and searched his, then leaned down to whisper, "Are you ready for me? I am more than ready for you, my darling."

Chuckling, Robert gently stroked his fingers over her, whispering back, "Ready for me to 'get into' you?"

She blushed once again at her own words. "It was a silly thing to say."

Robert nibbled on her earlobe. "It was the perfect thing to say. And I very much am, if that's what you would like."

She nodded, unable to communicate otherwise with the sensations created by his attentions to her earlobe and between her legs. He kept this up for another few moments, greatly enjoying hearing her gasps, before he removed his hands to reposition her on his lap.

"Would you like me to take the dress off now?" She kneeled over him, straddling his legs.

Shaking his head, Robert lifted the skirt of her dress, until his hands grasped her hips. He slowly maneuvered her down on top of him until she rested comfortably upon his lap. He slid his hands up her sides under the dress, pulling her close to him, kissing her. As they began to move together, Cora twisting her hands in his hair for a while and then moving them down underneath his buttocks to feel his muscles as he thrust into her, she thanked God that she now had such a delicious memory to associate with the dress.


	9. Chapter 9

30 October 1921

Robert and Cora started out early in the morning, intent upon seeing as many Venetian cathedrals as they reasonably could in one day. The weather cooperated with them – unlike the previous day – there being only a few clouds scattered here and there in the sky.

Before they put on their coats, Robert pulled Cora close to him, kissing her in such a way that diverted her attention from the fact that he had his hands behind her, hitching up her skirt in the back. Once he got the skirt high enough, Robert placed his hands on her bottom. This contact broke Cora's concentration on the kiss, and she leaned away, her eyes wide.

"Robert Crawley, we're supposed to be leaving! Cathedrals!"

He gave her bottom a gentle squeeze and pulled her closer, whispering to her in a lovingly teasing voice, "I know. I just wanted to make sure you were wearing all your garments today." With that he released her, grinning and letting go of her skirt, then giving her backside a playful smack.

Cora couldn't decide whether to be thoroughly exasperated or thoroughly amused. The laughter in his eyes convinced her that he really was only teasing, so she opted for the latter. As she walked over to get her coat and gloves, she gave his own behind a slap, giggling.

"Start that, now, and we'll end up chasing one another around this suite again, and we'll get no sight-seeing done at all today." He laughed while putting his coat on, slipping the guidebook into his pocket.

"I'm not so sure that's an awful idea, darling," she said, grinning as she pinned her hat on. "Besides, you started it," she chuckled.

Robert slid his gloves over his hands, then held his arm out to her. "But since we're leaving a day early, we should do as much as we can. Isn't that what we agreed to?" he asked as she put her arm around his.

"Yes, you're right, Robert." Cora smiled up at him as he led her out the door.

"Besides," he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "We have this evening for those kinds of shenanigans." He winked at her, his wife reciprocating. Each looking forward to the evening's shenanigans, they embarked upon their planned day together.

* * *

Robert's last surprise for Cora on their trip necessitated that they leave a day early. He had told her his plan the night before, as they ate dinner.

Dinner, it so happened, was a quiet, intimate affair. They'd both agreed to dine in, especially since neither felt like getting dressed again and going downstairs, particularly after what had transpired the previous evening. Cora's dress had finally been tossed upon the pile of clothes on the broken chair during their third go-round on the settee. She went into the bedroom and located their dressing gowns, as they couldn't seem to concentrate on the dinner menu otherwise.

"Robert? How about we order a very simple meal – wine, cheese, bread, fruit – and we can light all these candles," she indicated the candles all about the room, "and spread a blanket on the floor like a picnic."

Her husband grunted. "A picnic? Why not just eat at the table?"

Cora leaned on his shoulder and stroked a finger along his jawline. "Do you remember that dinner party that Mama and Mary threw when my mother was at Downton last year? After Mary's honeymoon?"

"Yes, I do," he said, visibly relaxing at her touch.

"And how the stove broke, so we had a sort of picnic all over the house?" Her voice was low, caressing.

"Yes." He closed his eyes, casting his mind back.

She drew a little closer to him. "Remember how we took our dessert and hid ourselves away in a forgotten room in the attic?"

Robert smiled at the memory, his eyes still closed. "I don't remember eating dessert. I do remember a blanket on the floor…." He chuckled.

"Exactly," she whispered. "We'll have our own private picnic, in our dressing gowns—"

"With your hair down," he murmured. He loved when her hair was down, allowing him to touch it, inhale its sweet fragrance whenever he liked.

"Yes, with my hair down, by candlelight, and we can decide what sort of dessert we'd like best."

Still grinning, he opened his eyes and looked at her. "I quite like that idea, darling."

Cora nodded slowly and kissed his cheek, pointing to the telephone. "You order then. I'll get the blanket and start lighting the candles."

A couple of hours – and a bottle of wine – later, most of the plates empty of food, Robert and Cora still sat on the floor in their dressing gowns, talking and laughing.

Then Robert cleared his throat. "Cora, I want to run an idea by you."

Her curiosity piqued, Cora sat up a little straighter as she took another sip of wine. "Yes, Robert, I'm listening."

"As we were getting ready for this trip, I thought about where I might take you for our next trip."

Cora blinked a few times. "Our next trip? You're already planning our next trip together?" The corners of her mouth turned upward in a slow grin.

"Yes, I've been thinking that we should go to Paris." He looked at her, gauging her reaction. "For several days, for Valentine's Day."

Almost overturning her wine glass, Cora reached across the blanket, over the empty dishes, and threw her arms around his neck. "Truly, Robert? Oh, darling, it's so romantic!" Then she drew back, laughing. "Are you sure you're my husband?"

"Oh, Cora, I love you, and I want to show you how much. We've never really been there together, and I thought you would like it, sweetheart," he said gently, smiling.

"Well, I think it's a brilliant idea, Robert." She had another sip of wine and grinned at him.

"Also—"

"There's more?" She gaped at him.

Robert smiled and took her hand in his. "I simply thought that, we might leave Venice a day early and spend a day and night in Paris on our way home. We can see it as a sort of preview."

Her eyes shone, and by that alone he knew she loved the idea. "Robert, I am enjoying Venice so much, but I think that's an excellent notion. Please, can we do that?"

He drew closer to her, gazing into her eyes and smiling, whispering, "I've arranged it all already. It's my last surprise for you, my dear."

"Robert, I don't know what to say. You certainly know how to spoil a girl rotten." She laughed and kissed him.

When they'd settled back with their wine again, Robert said, seriously, "Of course this does mean that we only have two more days in Venice, rather than three. We should decide what we absolutely want to do and see before we go, and get as much done as possible."

Cora's face underwent a transformation, taking on a look of deep concern. She bit her lip.

At this, Robert's countenance showed his bewilderment. "Cora? Darling, what's wrong?"

"I… I don't want you to push yourself. After last night…" She looked down at her hands.

Seeing her disquiet, he heaved a great sigh. He had to tell her. It wasn't fair to her to put her through this when her worry could be so easily dispelled. "Cora, I'm fine." He placed his hand in hers once more, waiting for her to lift her eyes to his. "Truly. Fine. And I know this because…" He took a deep breath. "…because this has happened before. Many times."

Cora swallowed, hard, not sure whether to be relieved that he knew what was happening and he was alright – or angry with him for having kept it from her. She chose to reserve her decision until she'd heard him out, simply repeating softly, "Many times?"

Robert nodded, keeping his eyes locked upon hers. "I started having these… attacks or episodes, whichever you prefer, after the war."

"After the Great War?"

This time he shook his head. "No, sweetheart. After the Boer War." He paused here to let her think about this, as he could tell that she was endeavoring to wrap her mind around it, having looked away from him.

When Cora turned her eyes back to him, Robert continued. "I've talked to doctors about it, and they say that the things I saw in the war…." Now _he_ had to turn his head for a moment. Then he met her gaze again, going on. "Ever since then, whenever there is something extremely upsetting to me, I work myself into a sort of attack. Like you saw last night. I've never had one in front of anyone else before. Usually I can feel it coming on and can get to a place by myself, but I was too worked up last night to notice the signs." He pressed her hand. "I'm sorry I never told you. Especially now that I've seen how much it frightened you."

Tears pricked Cora's eyes, and she said in a very hushed voice, "Robert, _why_ did you never tell me? I would have understood. I _do_ understand."

Moving a little closer, he lifted his other hand to touch her face. "Cora, I was embarrassed. I'm supposed to be the strong one, the one who takes care of you, our family. And here I am, prone to having this sort of episode when I get too upset. It's not that I didn't think you'd understand. I knew you would. But I didn't want you to look at me with pity in your eyes because of it. To start seeing me as fragile. Because I'm not, you see. I can, and I will, continue to take care of us." A thought made its way to the front of his mind, causing him to add, "And whatever might come our way."

She stared at him for several seconds after he said this, tilting her head slightly, more at the look on his face when he said this last sentence, rather than the sentence itself. Then she put her hand over his on her cheek. "I could never see you as fragile." Cora blinked back the tears that still threatened to fall. "Not with all we've been through together."

Robert drew her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. Cora gazed on him in the candlelight, its soft glow glinting off the silver in his hair. His confession made her want to confess as well.

"Robert?"

He lifted his eyes once again. "Yes, my love?"

"I want to tell you something too. About this morning." He didn't move or speak, just fixed his eyes upon hers, so she went on. "I don't know if you realize I slept on the settee last night." Cora held both his hands in hers on her lap. They had somehow, without her realizing, moved the empty dishes aside and come to sit close to one another, with their knees almost touching.

"Sweetheart, no, I didn't know." Robert pressed her hands while thinking back upon his uninterrupted rest. It made sense now, why he'd _had_ uninterrupted rest. She hadn't been beside him, fidgeting and twitching as she'd been doing most nights for over a week. "Why?"

"To be honest… I left you to order some dinner, and when I'd finished… I fell asleep crying I was so worried." A tear now escaped and slid down her cheek.

"Cora, my darling, I'm so sorry." The thought of her crying – again – was almost more than he could bear.

She gave him a soft smile. "That's done, my love. But what I really wanted to tell you is that, adding to my worry this morning when I awakened, was a dream I'd had."

"A dream?" He settled back to listen as she opened up and told him all the particulars of what she remembered from her dream, his face impassive.

Cora finished telling him the details, then shrugged. "All I could think was that our darling Sybil is now watching out for our little son." She choked back tears. "And it made me sad, and the darkness and gloom of the day didn't help. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to affect me so."

"Sweetheart," saying this as he held her hands tighter, his face all compassion, "you never have to apologize for something like that. Of course it affected you. I don't have dreams so intense, so I don't know what it's like, but I'm not going to fault you for how yours affect you. And I've seen how you react in your sleep too. I know what they can do."

She wasn't sure why, but telling him her dream – and his reaction, his understanding – made her feel closer to him, made her want him to wrap his arms around her, to keep her safe. So, she looked into his eyes and whispered, "Robert? Will you hold me for a while?"

Robert said nothing. He simply let go of her hands and held out his arms. Cora scooted herself over to him and put her head on his shoulder while he put his arms around her, holding her close. And when he held her like this, she couldn't hold back any longer. It was as if a dam had been breached, and her tears flowed freely onto his dressing gown and where it parted to reveal his chest. Feeling her cry, Robert held her tightly with one hand and began stroking her hair with the other. Every other minute or so he would drop a tender kiss on the top of her head, as she shuddered against him with sobs.

He felt at a loss, not knowing how else to comfort her. What he didn't comprehend was that this was the only comfort she needed.

After a while Robert felt his wife grow still. He waited until he was almost sure her tears had stopped before he left off stroking her hair and put his hand under her chin, lifting her head so he could look into her eyes. They were red-rimmed and her face tear-stained, but she looked calm. He asked her silent questions with his eyes, with his expression, and she answered in kind. At times like these, having been together so long and through so much, they needed no words to communicate.

Having ascertained that she was feeling better, comforted, protected, safe, Robert drew her to him and kissed her tenderly. Cora slid her arms around him, pulling him even closer to her. After a few moments of this, he ended the kiss and touched her cheek, a query in his eyes. She nodded, her eyes almost imploring him. And so Robert stood up carefully, pulling her up with him, put his arms underneath her back and legs, and carried her into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him, their eyes locked the entire time. Placing her gently upon the bed, he discarded his dressing gown and undid hers as well, pushing the fabric back, noting again that her curves seemed rounder than they had only a few weeks ago.

Robert lay next to her on the bed, caressing her face with both of his hands, not having broken eye-contact since he'd lifted her head from his chest out in the sitting room. He smiled at his beloved, his wife, and Cora smiled in return, her eyes dry and full of tenderness for her husband, her only lover, her protector, her best friend.

Not even whispers were necessary between them as they made slow, intense love that night. They fell asleep together, a deep, dreamless sleep for them both.

When they awakened, early, they indulged themselves once more before Robert got up and ordered a large breakfast to be brought up to them – complete with a pot of coffee. They chatted and laughed, and Cora ate almost all the bacon before Robert caught her sneaking the last two pieces and snatched them up from her, chuckling. And they decided to attempt to see as many cathedrals that day as possible.

Stopping only to have luncheon, the pair did just that, enjoying the beauties of Venice as well. They ended the afternoon with a splendid tea, and, back at their suite, a nap. Cora hadn't wanted to admit how tired she was, but Robert could see it in her face and posture once they'd returned. He also surmised that for some reason she didn't want to let on. He yawned somewhat dramatically.

"Cora, darling, I believe you've worn me out. I think I'll have a nap before dinner." He smiled and looked at her, extending his hand. "Would you like to join me?"

Robert was sure she didn't realize her expression was one of gratitude. "Yes, my dear. I think a nap is a fine idea. I might be a little tired myself, actually." Cora took his hand, and they went into the bedroom. He held her while she slept, thinking and eventually falling asleep himself.

When they woke, it was late. Luckily, the city never seemed to realize how late it was, so they dressed for dinner. Robert wanted to take her to a restaurant one of the waiters had recommended to him, and Cora was looking forward to the evening.

The recommendation turned out to be an excellent one, both agreeing that it was the best meal – of so many delicious ones – they'd had thus far. Their spirit of adventure from earlier in the day continued to rest upon them, and they decided to walk back to the hotel rather than take a boat, Robert's arm wrapped around Cora's waist. By the canal lighting, Cora appeared radiant, almost luminescent, to him, and it was like the moth to the flame. He stopped at various points during the walk just to steal a kiss from her, causing her to smile and blush – making her that much more alluring.

They had come just within sight of the hotel when the sky opened up and rain poured upon the city. Robert and Cora looked at one another and grinned. Releasing his hold on her waist, Robert grabbed her hand, and they made a run for it, laughing. Right before they went inside, he detained her, stealing one more kiss.

Upstairs, they flung drenched outer garments on the floor, kicking off shoes and tossing hats onto the pile by the door. Their dinner clothes were hardly in better shape, and Cora's teeth started chattering. Robert surveyed her state, knowing his own was similar, and grinned.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked.

She returned his grin, despite her chattering teeth. "The bath's big enough for two."

His grin grew wider as he nodded. He took her by the arm and guided her into the washroom. She went over to start the water, and after she'd turned on the taps he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck.

"Robert, we're both soaked through," she admonished him softly, but only because she was still shivering.

Moving his lips to her ear, he whispered, "Well, we will just have to fix that, won't we?" Robert took her gently by the shoulders and turned her around to face him. "Let me be your lady's maid tonight." He began unbuttoning her dress, fumbling a bit, but successfully getting to the point where he could slide it down and she could step out of it.

Throwing the wet garment over a chair, he then tugged her slip over her head. Kneeling in front of her, he worked her stockings down over her legs, his hands fondling the backs of them in a way that necessitated her grabbing onto the side of the bath.

Robert stood, reaching around her – his body pressed against to her, his mouth tantalizingly close, his eyes gazing into hers – and he turned off the taps. "The bath has nearly overflowed." A hint of amusement glinted in his eye.

"Yes… sorry, I got distracted." Almost adding an observation about the condition of his clothing against her skin, her mind heard it before she said it aloud, and she blushed, looking down.

Noting this, Robert moved his head around so she had to look at him. "Why, Lady Grantham, I do believe you just thought something quite naughty, didn't you?" He grinned widely. He always knew when she had, of course. She got a certain look on her face, which she had now, a sort of embarrassed amusement accompanied by a deep crimson blush.

Cora merely lifted her hands to loosen his tie and push his jacket off his shoulders, still blushing and grinning. "The bath will get cold, darling."

Robert helped her with his clothing, and they tossed the garments haphazardly on the chair, creating a soggy heap. After removing Cora's one remaining item of clothing – prompting Robert to joke about that usually being the first thing she got rid of, which earned him a playful swat on the bottom – they stepped into the steaming water together, Robert taking Cora's hand to assist her in.

"Oh, that feels quite lovely, Robert." She closed her eyes and let the warmth spread through her, thawing her chilled body.

"And it's going to feel even better, sweetheart. Let your hair down."

She opened her eyes and tilted her head. "But it will get wet." He stared at her for a moment, his lips twitching, before she saw her mistake. She laughed. "Silly me." She pulled the combs and pins out of her hair, very carefully because the damp strands seemed to have gotten tangled in some of the combs, and placed them on the edge of the bath.

Robert smiled at her. "Now, turn your back to me, close your eyes, and relax."

At first she wondered what he might do, but the look in his eye was loving, not mischievous, and she trusted him completely. Cora did as she was asked, letting herself relax as he leaned her back so her hair was under the water, the warmth touching her scalp and making her sigh contentedly.

As he gently worked shampoo through her hair, Robert's mind went down a familiar path. He'd been thinking a lot in the past several months – several years, in fact – about who exactly he was, what role in life he was supposed to have. The Great War had thrust upon him a world of doubt, and events since had not helped him get his bearings. He'd had to accept the changes and find his way again. He was still the Earl of Grantham, and Downton was safe. But this security had come with a price. He shared the responsibilities, the running and management, as well as the burdens of the estate, and he'd had to adjust to new ways. Robert had made the transition grudgingly.

But the past year had taught him much, lessons that had been painful to learn, difficult to accept. Where he had once thought of himself first and foremost as "the Earl of Grantham," because of all these events of the past year, in the last few months he had begun to see himself in a different light. It was the light cast by the memories of Sybil, the faces of Mary and Edith, Sybbie's giggle, and Cora's smile.

In this light, Robert saw himself less as Downton's guardian – and more theirs. Caring for the loved ones still with him was far more important than caring for the estate.

And so, in this gesture of caring, Robert supported his wife with one hand, leaning her back again to rinse the soap from her hair, his hands caressing her scalp and his fingers threading through her locks under the water. He gazed upon her closed eyes and her mouth that curved in a soft smile. At this his mind strayed from the familiar, old path, and onto the new one he'd begun to trod in the past week. He wondered if he might have to take extra special care of his wife in the coming months, if he might eventually have someone new to care for….

Robert shook himself mentally and finished rinsing Cora's hair, lifting her to sit up again and gently wringing excess water from the tresses. She opened her eyes and smiled even wider. "Thank you, my love. Now I'll do yours?"

They spent the next hour or so bathing one another, gliding hands across skin, at times leaving kisses in the wake of freshly rinsed expanses, letting out tepid water and running hot several times. Once the water became lukewarm for a fourth time, they decided it might be time to get out, both of them having wrinkled fingertips and toes from being in the water so long. Robert got out and brought a few towels over, opening one for Cora and wrapping it around her as he lifted her out of the bath. He handed her a second, which she twisted around her wet hair, and he put the third one around his waist after quickly patting his chest and back with it.

As Cora started to walk past him into the bedroom to get her dressing gown, he caught her around the waist and pulled her to him, kissing her with fervor. She pressed herself even closer against him, slipping her hands down his back and underneath his towel, giving his bottom a squeeze. The response of his body was immediate, and Robert groaned against her mouth as he whipped the towel from around his waist and threw it upon the floor. Cora brought one hand from behind him, curling her fingers around him, grinning when he moaned again, his lips having trailed down to her collar bone.

"Cora… Cora… Cora…" he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. She'd brought her other hand around now, and he was nearly incoherent with pleasure at the things she was doing, leaning against her without realizing it.

For her part, Cora loved hearing how raspy his voice became and the sound of his groans when she took control in this way. She also knew – delighted in the fact – that soon Robert would be unable to wait any longer and would probably throw her on the bed and…. She smiled just thinking about it.

She didn't have to wait much longer before she heard Robert breathe huskily in her ear, "God, Cora, I need you…."

The towel around her hair had already fallen to the floor, and, pulling her hands away from him gently and firmly, he unwrapped the towel from around her and led her by the hand to the bed. Laying her down upon it, he covered her with his body. By this point Cora was wriggling beneath him, needing Robert just as much as he needed her. "Please…" she hissed, her hands on his hips and her eyes affixed to his.

When their bodies met, both let out a deep sigh of pleasure. Soon they had established a rhythm, and Cora's hands ran up and down his back as Robert kissed her neck, one arm beneath her shoulders. His other hand was between them, and, momentarily, no more than a fleeting thought really, Cora wondered why he was caressing her abdomen, which wasn't something he normally did. However, the thought flew right out of her head as she cried out in release, Robert following suit only a few thrusts later.

After kissing her for several minutes, Robert smiled down into her lovely face and asked, "Darling, are you tired?"

Cora nodded, still lazily running her hands up and down his back. "Yes."

"We'll decide what to do for our last day in Venice in the morning then, shall we?" He touched her cheek gently, moving his thumb along her cheekbone.

"That sounds good," she said, her eyes starting to close.

Robert chuckled and leaned up to kiss her forehead, groping for the blankets and pulling them up over them. Cradling Cora in his arms as she fell asleep, he whispered, "I love you, sweetheart," against her slightly damp curls before closing his own eyes and drifting off into a comfortable sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

31 October 1921

When Cora wakened the next morning, the first thing she felt… was nauseated. A great wave of it washed over her, and she scrambled to extricate herself from Robert's embrace, nearly falling over the side of the bed as she climbed over him in her haste to get to the washroom in the quickest way possible. Woken and utterly confused by this, Robert tried to grab her as she fled from the bed, but she had already hit the floor and was running.

"Cora?" he called out.

She hadn't had time to even close the door behind her, so he heard her being sick. He rushed over to the washroom. Cora sat on the floor looking miserable and pale. Robert picked up a water glass, filled it, and handed it to her along with a hand towel. Giving him a grateful glance, she rinsed her mouth out, wiped her face, and then drank a tiny bit of water, testing to see if it would stay settled. When it did, she drank a little more, her stomach still troubled.

While she did this, Robert found her dressing gown and brought it into the washroom, picking up his own and draping both over his arm on his way there. He extended a hand to his wife, and she allowed him to help her stand, then put her dressing gown on her. He kissed her forehead, perceiving that it was slightly cold and clammy.

"Are you alright, darling?" he asked, slipping into his own dressing gown.

Cora nodded and drank the rest of the water. Taking the glass from her, Robert slid an arm around her waist and guided her back into the bedroom, sitting her on a chair and kneeling in front of her, taking her hands.

"Sweetheart, are you _sure_ you're alright?"

She nodded once more, remarking, "Probably something I ate last night didn't sit well."

Robert looked at her in confusion, as they had eaten precisely the same things the night before, and he felt perfectly well. He let this pass, though, pressing her hands and asking her a few more questions instead. "Do you feel ill otherwise? A chill or a headache? Perhaps you should lie down, Cora—"

"No, please, I'm really fine, Robert." She gave him a small smile. "I _am_ quite hungry though."

"You still want to eat?" He gaped at her. "Are you certain?" Seeing her nod yet again, he said, "Well, perhaps something light. Toast—"

Cora interrupted him a second time. "I want eggs."

"Eggs?"

"Yes, please. And coffee."

Robert couldn't deny that she already appeared and sounded better. "Well then, darling, let me order them for you." Kissing her forehead again, he stood up and walked into the sitting room to call down for breakfast.

Cora leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes and clutching her stomach. Despite what she'd told her husband, Cora wondered whether she might actually be sick, whether she might have picked up some sort of Italian virus. _No, that's ridiculous_, she thought. _It probably was something I ate_…._ Or perhaps part of menopause, like I thought the other morning…._

Meanwhile, Robert replaced the telephone receiver and remained sitting on the settee, ruminating. They had eaten the same dinner last night. She didn't seem sick otherwise. Yet she'd been ill first thing after waking up, and she was still hungry, wanting something specific. He furrowed his brow. It could just be a fluke… but it could also be another piece in the puzzle. Sighing deeply, he put his head in his hands. He didn't want to think this way, but his mind kept landing there. Cora, however, didn't seem to be thinking that way at all. Every time he'd dropped a hint, her expression had been either blank or perplexed. _Stop it_, he told himself. _You have to stop thinking this way. Getting your hopes up when they'll most likely be dashed…. Your wife is in her fifties, she has only been ill once that you know of, and then there are all the pieces that don't fit. There are probably several explanations for what's happening…. _ At this point, he nearly gasped in fear. _What if something is wrong? What if she's sick and doesn't know it…?_ It was another possibility that he did not want to contemplate. Robert made a sweeping motion with his hand, as if trying to shunt all these thoughts from his mind. There was no way to know anything for sure unless he took her to a doctor, and she wasn't going to consent to that until they got home. But, by God, when they got there, that's exactly what they were going to do, so he – they – could know once and for all.

Having decided this and feeling somewhat easier because of it, Robert stood and went into the bedroom. "Cora, I think you should get back into bed for a while. They'll bring breakfast on a tray, and I'll sit there with you too."

Still feeling somewhat shaky, Cora acquiesced and let him help her to the bed and get settled there. By this time the knock came at the door, and Robert went to get the breakfast and tip the waiter, then brought in the tray and set it up before her. He climbed up on the bed next to her, where he marveled at her immediate dive for the scrambled eggs. Taking a piece of toast and a few pieces of bacon, he watched her continue to eat. Robert had to be quick about grabbing some more of the breakfast for himself before she devoured it all.

"Well, I suppose you're feeling better then, Cora?" She nodded as she drank her coffee, but he went on. "Be that as it may, I think we should stay here today."

Nearly dropping her cup, Cora turned to him, disappointed. "But it's our last day in Venice, Robert! We're not going to stay the entire day in the hotel, are we?" She pointed out the window. "And look how beautiful the weather is!"

"Sweetheart, I'm concerned that you might be unwell. I don't want to make it worse by traipsing around the city."

"No! No, I'm fine, I promise!" She appeared near tears. "Don't keep us cooped up on our last day! If I am ill again, we'll come back and I'll get right in bed, but truly, I'm well enough, Robert."

Robert put his arm around her shoulders and pushed her hair back from her face. "Alright, Cora. I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd get so upset. We'll go out. But I'm going to hold you to what you just said – you get ill, we're coming right back. Yes?"

She looked at him, saying "Yes," before leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "It's a deal." She finished her coffee. "Now can we get dressed and go? I want to see if we can find Sybbie something special in the shops."

Kissing her lightly on the lips, he smiled at her. "Of course, darling. But we won't spend all day shopping, will we?" He got up and walked toward the washroom.

"No, Robert." She rolled her eyes. "We won't spend all day shopping."

* * *

They didn't spend the _whole_ day shopping at least. Most of the morning they wandered into and out of shops, finally finding a few little things for Sybbie and a handsome new dressing gown for Robert in a deep shade of wine. The rest of the day they rambled around the main part of the city, exploring nooks they'd previously neglected. In late afternoon they arrived back at the hotel, and this time Cora found herself too tired to even protest when Robert suggested she have a rest.

After Robert had seen Cora tucked up into bed with a kiss, he closed the bedroom door behind him and poured himself a Scotch. He put his coat back on and took the glass out onto their balcony, leaving one of the doors ajar in case she called for him. Sitting on one of the wrought iron chairs, he took a drink and stared out over the city. It had been a perfect day for them to amble through the streets, not too cold and with a cloudless sky.

In fact, they'd had such a lovely time that Robert had almost been able to forget Cora being ill that morning. Almost. He'd kept a close watch for signs of sickness, but had seen nothing, save her exhaustion upon their return. She'd eaten luncheon with hearty appetite, laughed and chatted and teased with him, and her face had a healthy rosy glow while they walked from place to place.

Now Robert leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, his head bent, gazing at the amber liquid in the glass he held in both hands, as if it could give him the answers he sought. He couldn't deny it; no matter how well the day had gone, he was still wondering – and worried.

He had another sip of Scotch and stared into the glass again, wishing he had a cigar. He hadn't brought any with him on the trip, not anticipating spending much time in male company – or by himself. And he hadn't missed them until now, as smoking aided in his cogitation, and at the moment he really wanted to think. _Well, I'll just have to do without, won't I?_

Sighing deeply, Robert contemplated the option of simply telling Cora what he was thinking. Perhaps she could offer up more pieces of the puzzle. But it was possible that he would cause her unnecessary worry, and he didn't want to do that. He wanted her to have a wonderful last few days of their trip, especially now that they planned to spend a day in Paris. No, his decision from this morning still held. He would observe her and do his best to wait until they were back home before saying anything to her. And try not to pin hopes on something that was most likely impossible….

Robert worked on putting all these thoughts away, as far to the back of his mind as he could manage, while the sun set and darkness fell. Finishing his drink, Robert stood up and went back into the sitting room. Looking around, his eyes landed on the broken chair. He chuckled, remembering that night, the look on Cora's face when the chair had tilted crazily, their laughter, and how they'd merely moved to the settee and continued.

Perhaps worrying too much was simply borrowing trouble. They still had a few more days of their holiday, and Robert resolved to make sure his wife had terrific fun.

Glancing at the clock, Robert realized he'd been sitting outside for nearly two hours, and that if they wanted to make the reservation he'd made – this time in a restaurant recommended by Sig. Conti, the hotel manager – he would have to wake Cora up so they could get ready. He slipped into the bedroom and turned on a lamp, sitting beside his wife on the bed. He put a hand on her hip and leaned forward to kiss her forehead, her cheekbones, her chin, then her lips. He could feel her smile as she awakened to his kiss.

Sitting back up, Robert smiled down at her. "Did you sleep well, my angel?" He brushed a few stray curls back from her face.

"I did, darling. I had the most marvelous dream, too." Cora sat up, grinning at him.

"You did? What did you dream about?" He slid his hand up to her waist and pulled her a bit closer to him.

"You. I dreamed of you as a little boy." She touched his face, still smiling.

Robert turned his head slightly to kiss the palm of her hand. "What was I doing?"

"Nothing in particular. Just little boy things. I think carrying around a stuffed pony, playing with a toy train, learning to fly kite with your father." She cocked her head. "I don't remember your father looking quite so much like you, but he did in my dream." Cora ran her thumb lightly along his bottom lip. "He was very handsome, and you, my dear, were adorable."

Catching her hand in his, he pressed another kiss to its palm, then clutched it to his chest. "Yes, well, if Papa looked like me in your dream, I'm sure he _was_ handsome." He winked at her. "I'm glad it was a good dream. I think you may have been due for one." He squeezed her hand. "Now, my darling girl, you and I need to get ready for dinner. We have reservations." Robert kissed her hand one last time before standing up and going to his wardrobe to pull out dinner attire.

Cora followed suit, pulling out a dress she knew was one of his favorites and getting ready as quickly as she could.

As he tied his tie, Robert remarked, "I'm getting quite good at this, my dear."

"Well, darling, as they say, practice makes perfect." She adjusted her headpiece in the mirror and then stood, looking him over and chuckling. "If we ever lose Downton, you could always become a valet."

Robert gave her a hard stare. "You know I don't find that amusing, Cora. You may be able to poke fun at our near miss, but I cannot." He fumbled with his cufflinks, slightly put out at her flippant attitude about something that still chafed him.

"Oh, Robert, I apologize. I forgot myself for a moment." She crossed the room and stilled his hand. "Let me do that. I fear you'll tear your shirt the way you're fussing with it."

Looking down at her while she worked with the studs and links, his expression softened. "It's alright, Cora. I realize you were trying to be facetious, not blasé, about that, er, incident."

She kept her eyes on her task. "Good." She lifted her eyes when both cufflinks were securely in place.

"Thank you, darling." He kissed her briefly before she went back to pull on her gloves.

Shrugging into his dinner jacket, he checked his pocket watch again. "Are you nearly ready, Cora? We should leave soon."

"Yes, I just need to put on my coat."

They both put on coats, Robert his hat and gloves, and they left the hotel room for the restaurant. Cora clung to his arm, the night air chilly. Fortunately it was but a short walk before they were in the warmth of the restaurant and being shown their table – in a private dining room.

"Robert! No wonder you were so intent on our keeping our reservation! How lovely! Unless—"

He sat down after handing their coats to the host and looked at her. "Unless what?"

She chuckled. "Unless you're trying to hide what an appetite you wife seems to have lately from the other diners."

Taking her hand, he grinned. "Don't be ridiculous, Cora. I'm not sure anything can top the night you took chicken off my plate." He laughed.

"Except maybe the time you almost accidentally clocked a waiter because you were in the middle of a temper tantrum." Her tone was still teasing, her eyes bright with mirth.

"Not one of my finest moments, I'll admit," he said, with a wry smile, picking up his menu. Robert didn't want the conversation to turn sour, so he changed the subject. "What would you like tonight, my dear? I believe I will have the fish."

Cora picked up her menu as well and perused the list of entrees. "I think some ravioli. And chicken parmesan."

Robert looked up from his menu to blink at her. "Both?"

She drew her eyebrows together. "Oh, you think I shouldn't?" She closed her menu and took a sip of water. "The ravioli then."

"Cora, if you're hungry, then by all means, order whatever you like." He hadn't meant to upset her.

Continuing to frown, she waved her hand. "No, I probably don't need all of that. It's fine."

Robert put his menu down and reached across the table to put his hand over hers. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn't have said anything. Please order exactly what you like."

She looked at him and smiled a little. "But I won't be able to fit into my dresses if I keep eating like this." There was a bit of humor in her voice, and she wasn't about to disclose to him that she was already having trouble fitting comfortably into some of them. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Squeezing her hand, he merely smiled and said, "Then we will buy you more. Besides," he grinned wider, "if you can't fit into your dresses, you can't wear them." He winked at her.

"Incorrigible," she muttered, laughing and shaking her head, having some of the wine the waiter just poured while Robert gave their order: fish and ravioli _and_ chicken parmesan.

"We can share it," he said, winking again and picking up his wine glass.

Cora gave him a saucy look, as if to say "not if I eat it all first," but she didn't say it aloud, simply had another sip of wine and grinned at him, knowing he was only teasing.

The two conversed together, discussing the last leg of their trip and plans for their day in Paris until the meal arrived.

"Doesn't this look good, Cora?" Robert picked up his knife and fork, then realized his wife hadn't responded. He looked up and saw that she was too busy eating ravioli already to pay attention to him. Chuckling and shaking his head, he began eating his own meal.

After Cora seemed to have gotten past the point of ravenous hunger and was slowing down a bit, Robert engaged her in conversation again, clearing his throat slightly. "How are you feeling, Cora?" He said this as nonchalantly as he could and took another bite of fish.

Glancing up at him, she smiled. "I'm feeling vastly contented, darling. This is marvelous. Do you want part of this chicken? I can put it on your plate." She grinned at her own joke.

Robert felt slightly more at ease at her joviality and chuckled. "No, my dear. You have it. I'm quite satisfied with the fish."

When she'd finished every bite of both dishes, she looked at him and grinned.

"Dessert?" he queried.

Cora's smile became wider. "Yes, please." She picked up the dessert menu and glanced at it quickly, settling on the first thing she saw with the word "chocolate" in it.

When the waiter approached them again, Robert ordered her dessert and a Scotch. "And coffee, please," Cora added. She had begun to grow tired, and the wine wasn't helping. She hoped the coffee _would_ help, because she didn't want to tell her husband this. She'd observed over the past few days the lines of concern that appeared upon his face any time she mentioned that she was fatigued, and she didn't like to worry him.

They fell quiet for a time while Robert drank some of the Scotch the waiter had set in front of him and Cora sipped coffee gratefully, sampling the dessert.

"Would you like some, Robert?" she asked, proffering the spoon with some of the dessert upon it.

"Just a taste, I think," he agreed, opening his mouth to accept the bite. "Mmm… that's quite good, Cora."

"Would you like another bite?" She had another spoonful herself.

Robert wiped his mouth with his serviette. "No, darling – you have it." He took a sip of Scotch.

Surreptitiously watching his wife, Robert found himself grinning. He was sure she didn't realize that with each bite she took she would close her eyes and, with a rapturous look upon her face, nearly purr with delight. By the time she reached the end of the dessert, Robert was openly gazing at her, his lips twitching.

Opening her eyes after this last luscious mouthful, her glance fell upon her husband, who was regarding her intently and unabashedly. "Why are you staring at me?" She felt a blush creep up her neck.

He continued to look at her the same way. "Because I want to, because you're beautiful."

At this Cora's blush spread into the roots of her hair and to the tips of her ears, and she lowered her lashes, smiling.

Robert reached across the table and took her hand in his again. "And you're even more beautiful when you do that," he whispered. "How would you like to go dancing in our room one more time? We still have the gramophone there."

She lifted her eyes to his and nodded. "Yes. I'd like that very much."

Standing, he kissed the back of her hand and pulled her up to stand in front of him. "It sounds like the perfect end to our holiday."

They got their coats, and Robert took care of the bill and tip, and they walked back to the hotel, Robert's arm around Cora's shoulders to ward off the chill of the evening.

"Robert? It's not the end of our holiday yet, though," she pointed out. "We still have the lovely Orient Express and a day and night in Paris awaiting us."

"We certainly do, sweetheart. So, simply the perfect end to the Venice part of our trip." He dropped at kiss on her hair as they strolled along. "And I'm happy that we'll be visiting Paris. We can say we spent at least one night in 'The City of Love,' as they call it," he said, chuckling a bit.

"I know this will sound hopelessly sappy, Robert, but it's true to me: any city I'm in with you is a city of love." She giggled.

Robert stopped walking and pulled her around to face him, putting his other arm around her as well, looking at her adoringly. "No, my darling. It doesn't sound sappy at all. It's music to my ears." He leaned down and placed his lips upon hers in a soft kiss, pulling her close to him.

Cora rested her hands on his chest, feeling an incredible thrill at his pausing to give her a kiss – one that was growing in intensity – in so public a place. After a few moments, both appeared oblivious to everything else around them, their hands beginning to roam over one another's backs and arms. Another several moments later, Robert remembered where they were again, and ended the kiss, but only pulled back slightly to look at her with a smile on his face.

"Cora Crawley, you do make me forget myself sometimes."

Still a little breathless from the kiss, she beamed at him. "It's nice to know I can still do that."

"Oh, you most certainly can." Robert grasped her hand and led her back to the hotel, his pace somewhat quicker now, making her laugh.

As they wound their way through the lobby and up the stairs, Robert never took his eyes off her face. Cora wondered how they didn't actually bump into anything, since she wasn't looking where they were going either. But they made it upstairs and into the room unscathed, where Robert shut and locked the door behind them.

"Now, where were we?" he asked, throwing his coat, then hers, on the settee, and then slowly drawing off her gloves, still barely taking his eyes off her.

"Robert," she said softly, with a little chuckle. "What about dancing?"

He grinned and chuckled as well. "Cora, give a man a chance…." Kissing her cheek, he walked over and poured them each a drink, handing her one as she took her shoes off.

Robert drank his own drink as he looked through the records. Cora came up beside him, stroking his arm lightly with her free hand and peering around him at the titles.

He pointed at one with his glass. "What about that one?"

"Yes, I like that one. It's one of Mother's favorites. And it's a good song for us too."

Putting his glass down, Robert took the record from its sleeve and placed it on the gramophone, starting it and taking off his dinner jacket, tossing that onto the pile of coats on the settee. Taking her drink from her hand and setting that aside, he slid one arm around her waist and took her hand in his, starting to dance with her.

"I know you're always saying that you're a bad dancer, Robert, but I think you're much better than you think you are."

"Well, I will admit that I am better at it when it's just you and me," he replied, looking at her affectionately.

Cora's lips curved upward in a smile. "I wonder why that is."

Robert said nothing, simply tightened his hold on her and rested his cheek against her temple, murmuring along to the music, "Longing for you all the while, more and more; longing for the sunny smile I adore; birds are singing far and near, roses blooming ev'rywhere. You, alone, my heart can cheer; you, just you."

Sliding her hand around from his shoulder to stroke the soft hair at the nape of his neck, she felt close to tears. Unable to find her voice, Cora closed her eyes and mouthed the words along with him as he continued to sing softly with the record and lead her through the dance, "Let me call you 'Sweetheart,' I'm in love with you. Let me hear you whisper that you love me too. Keep the love-light glowing in your eyes so true. Let me call you 'Sweetheart,' I'm in love with you."

Just before the last line of the last verse, Robert drew his head back, raising his voice loud and clear to sing the words as he looked into her eyes. Then he let go of her hand to cup her cheek, smiling and whispering, "How's that for sappy?" He'd stopped dancing, and as the last strains of the song played, he gave her a tender kiss. Then he said to her, "But every word the truth."

Cora gazed up at him lovingly, words stuck in her throat, blinking back tears. She was still playing with the hair at nape of his neck, and she never wanted the moment to end.

Robert ran his thumb gently across her cheek. He could tell she was tired. "Cora," he said, his voice low, "perhaps we should go to sleep. We have an early start tomorrow."

The hand that stroked his hair went still, and her eyes grew sad. "No," she whispered. "Please, not yet." Gently, she pulled his head down, pressing her lips to his, her other hand grazing over his chest through his shirt.

All other thoughts melting away at this, Robert deepened the kiss, his hand slipping from her face to her shoulder and then around to her back, his arms pulling her closer to him. Cora sighed as his mouth traveled from her lips to her ear, then down her throat. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back.

As Robert's lips and tongue trailed down from her throat to her collar bone, his hands followed suit, moving from back and waist, to bottom. He also started walking her backwards toward the settee, because he could already feel his body responding intensely to her intoxicating scent and her hands upon his chest.

Until she stopped. "Robert," she breathed.

"Umm hummm?" he wondered why she'd stopped walking but couldn't be bothered to look up, too intent upon kissing her.

"I can't move back any farther," she whispered, tugging gently on his shirtsleeve.

He finally lifted his head and saw that her calves were up against the low sitting room table. He looked at her and grinned. Cora knew that look. He was getting an idea, which almost always meant one of two things: brilliant results or disaster.

Releasing her, he swept everything off the table with one impressive motion of his hands. The he picked Cora up and lay her upon the table, settling her as comfortably as he could before sitting on the table himself and leaning down to kiss her mouth, his hands fondling her breasts through her dress. Finding this a bit awkward, Robert moved himself so he was also lying on the table on his side, helping her turn onto her side as well, so they were facing one another, their lower legs hanging off the end of the table.

Cora laughed. "Darling, wouldn't the bed be more comfortable?"

"Shhhhh…" he said, beginning to kiss her again and using one hand to pull her dress up.

Running a hand over his body, Cora found that he was already very aroused, and she simply rested her palm there, her fingers moving ever so slightly over him through his trousers. Robert moaned and worked his own hand beneath the waistband of her undergarments, stroking his fingers over her, lightly at first, and then, as she began to gasp, harder. Cora's motion against him stilled and she grasped his arm instead, her eyes closed tightly as his hand set up a steady, rapid rhythm. She began to writhe, and Robert put his arm under her head to protect it from striking the table while he worked with fingers and thumb.

Neither noticed that the table had begun to creak and tremble, as the creaks could not surpass her cries of pleasure and the trembles seemed part of her own shudderings and quiverings. All was soon still, save for the rushing of blood through them both and their heavy breathing. During this pause, Robert conceded to Cora's observation that the table was not incredibly comfortable. He got up carefully so as not to fall, thinking he felt the table move in a strange way. Shrugging, he lifted his still panting wife up off the table and supported her with one arm around her waist, as he began to transfer first his dinner jacket and then their coats from settee to table.

Robert sat Cora on the settee and took her jewels carefully off her – the headpiece already in danger of falling off anyway – placing these on the end table, not wanting them to get lost in the garments on the other low table. He pulled her dress and slip both over her head, and threw these on the growing pile. As quickly as possible he unbuttoned his shirt buttons as Cora stood to divest herself of stockings and undergarments, all going on the mountain of clothing.

Cora watched Robert take off his trousers with a smile on her face. His eyes on hers, he flung the trousers to the top of the pile. At this there was a unquestionable snapping noise and then a thud. Both turned to see that one end of the table had hit the floor, the contents having slid down, half hiding the two legs that appeared to have broken off. Robert looked at Cora, who had her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.

Torn between amusement and seriousness, Robert stated, "Well, it's a good thing I thought that table too low for much else. That might have been us toppled to the floor."

A giggle escaped from between Cora's fingers and her eyes lit up with merriment. "Are we going to break every piece of furniture in the suite before we leave?"

Chortling heartily, he grinned at her from ear to ear. "Only one way to find out, my dear…" Robert lunged for her and hurled them both upon the settee, Cora laughing as he threw his one last garment on top of the heap on the floor.


	11. Chapter 11

1 November 1921

Raucous laughter mingled with the jumbled voices of elegantly dressed men and women and buoyant music from the piano in the bar car of the Orient Express. Couples, groups, and single drinkers sat at tables and at the bar, and some passed through the car on their way to other destinations on the train, pausing only long enough to order a drink. The colorful attire of the ladies, combined with the haze of smoke from cigarettes and cigars, pipes and cigarillos, and the press of so many people socializing in such a tiny space, gave the bar car the feel of a stifling rainforest, complete with squawking exotic birds.

To the Earl of Grantham, sitting by himself at the bar in the late afternoon, a cigar in one hand and a near-empty glass of Scotch in the other, everything happening behind him was nothing more than a lively blur. One or two drinks ago, he'd had company – an acquaintance he'd made at the officers' club during the Great War – who had joined him for a Scotch, some conversation, and had supplied him with a couple of cigars.

After the acquaintance left, Robert fell back into his brown study, grateful for the cigar. The road his thoughts traveled on was one they'd trod so many times in the past days that he feared he might wear a furrow into it so deep he'd never get back out. Signaling the bartender for another Scotch, he endeavored to pull his thoughts out of this abysmal place, reaching instead to remember the delights of their holiday thus far.

Taking a large drink of the Scotch the bartender put in front of him, Robert began to chuckle, recalling when he and Cora were leaving the hotel early that morning. Sig. Conti had come up to their room personally to make certain that their luggage was seen to properly and to check that all was in order and to assess how they'd enjoyed their stay. As the bellmen scurried efficiently around them, gathering their trunks and cases, Sig Conti stared at the damaged sitting room table, his expression unreadable. Robert and Cora looked at one another, both of them at a loss as to how they could explain to the manager – without embarrassment – why a previously perfectly sturdy table now sat with its surface at an angle, one end resting upon the floor, the two broken legs tucked beneath it.

Curious, Sig. Conti turned his gaze to the Earl and Countess. He wouldn't ask for an explanation, but he certainly hoped they might offer one, because it would most likely prove interesting.

Robert cleared his throat. "I do apologize for the table, Sig. Conti. We put something on it last night, and the legs, er, snapped." At least this much was the truth.

Sig. Conti merely raised an eyebrow.

Cora wasn't sure why she felt the need to elaborate upon this. "Yes, we put…" She cast an eye quickly about the room. "… we put the gramophone on it. It must have been too heavy for the table." She grinned, feeling proud of herself for this explanation.

However, Robert covered his eyes with one hand and groaned inwardly beside her as the manager's face transformed into an expression of extreme bewilderment. "Pardon me, Lady Grantham, but the gramophone remains unharmed? It didn't fall with the table?"

Her face went red, her grin fading, and she began to poke Robert in the back, literally prodding him to help her. "I caught it just in time," Robert stated in a thoroughly unconvincing voice, reaching around behind him and grasping Cora's hand to stop her continuous jabbing at the small of his back.

"You… caught it, your lordship?" Sig. Conti's tone was incredulous, and his eyes moved back and forth between them as Lady Grantham turned her head against her husband's shoulder to cover her blushing face and – he was sure this was what he heard – her giggles. And now Lord Grantham couldn't seem to conceal his own grin and was most certainly unaware of the slight flush that touched his own cheeks.

Robert watched as Sig. Conti's countenance went from a look of skepticism to one of understanding. The manager nodded and smiled. "Si, I comprehend." He lowered his voice, "Lord Grantham, remember that you are in Italy. And also that I am discretion itself." His lips twitched in amusement as the Earl's eyes widened and then reflected relief. The Countess' giggles simply increased in volume, and her ears took on an fierce shade.

Shaking the manager's hand, Robert remarked gratefully, "Well, we do appreciate your discretion, Sig. Conti, and, of course, put the cost of the table on our bill." He guided Cora, who had calmed down somewhat, toward the door, their baggage having been taken downstairs. At the door, Robert paused and pointed to the chair they had broken. "Add that to our bill too."

A grinning Robert and newly tickled Cora left the hotel manager staring perplexedly at the sitting room chair. As they made their way down the stairs, they heard a resounding crash, followed by a howl of surprise or pain – or perhaps both.

Robert looked at his wife seriously. "I think it's best if we hurry, Cora. We don't want to miss the train." He grabbed her hand and headed down the stairs again at nearly a run. She squeezed his hand, following him and laughing.

During their journey to the train station, they chatted and took final looks at the city they'd both come to love, holding hands. But Robert couldn't help noticing the dark circles beneath his wife's eyes or the way she had intervals of rather troubling silence at times, troubling because of the brooding look upon her face.

Once they'd boarded the train and found their compartment for the next couple of days, they sat together there in front of a splendid tea. No sooner had Cora put down her teacup, than she fell asleep against his shoulder. Robert, not realizing this, had been asking her a question, and, getting no answer, looked around at her and frowned slightly. Letting out a deep sigh, he stroked her hair gently for a while until he heard a knock at the compartment door – the steward arriving to clear the tea things away.

Even this didn't wake Cora. So Robert carefully supported her with one arm while he stood up, then lowered her onto the seat, lifting her legs onto the seat as well. He stuck his head out into the passage to instruct the steward to bring him a blanket. Covering her with this, tucking it around her lovingly, he pulled out a book and sat on the seat across from her, trying to concentrate. He failed miserably.

The steward brought a luncheon tray a couple of hours later. Still she slept. Robert considered whether to wake her or not. Remembering that they had been up very late the night before, he let her sleep on.

By mid-afternoon, she still hadn't woken. At this point Robert was nearly beside himself with worry and decided he needed to stretch his legs and have a drink. He kissed her tenderly on the cheek before leaving.

Robert certainly hadn't meant to stay so long in the bar car, but one Scotch turned into two, which turned into three as he conversed with his war acquaintance. After he'd left, Robert had ordered another, and then four turned into five and then to losing count as he endeavored to drown his thoughts away, much as he had for different reasons on their way _to_ Venice. Again, it didn't solve anything; it merely made him drunk.

Nevertheless, something about finally being able to fix upon those more pleasant memories of their trip (after losing count of how many Scotches he'd had), coupled with the boisterous atmosphere in the bar car, put him in a merry frame of mind. And he wanted to see Cora. Taking out his pocket watch, Robert squinted at it, but his eyes were unable to focus upon it properly. He didn't need the watch to tell him, though, that he'd been there far too long and that he'd had at least one too many drinks. Robert asked the bartender for the time and something to help sober him up, not wanting Cora to know just how much he'd had to drink.

After downing a cup of coffee – which made him blink very hard, not being used to the stuff, but which also made him feel slightly more lucid – Robert departed the bar car, making it half way down the passage before recognizing that he recognized nothing. "Ooops!" he said, chuckling and turning back.

A large party of people let out a great celebratory huzzah as Robert passed through the bar car once more, going in the correct direction this time. He let out a loud whoop with them, coherent enough to realize that it wasn't something he would normally do, but too inebriated to stop himself. Staggering down the passage, using the train wall for support at various points, Robert hummed a bawdy song to himself.

Robert attempted to make a quiet entrance because he knew Cora might still be asleep. Unfortunately the small space and rocking of the train seemed to conspire against him, and he bumped into the desk, knocking the lamp over.

"Shhhhhh!" he hissed at the lamp as he loudly set it to rights again.

"Robert? What's going on? What's that noise?" Cora asked, rubbing her eyes.

Turning the lamp on, Robert looked over at her. "Nothing, dear. Nothing at all."

Cora sat up, throwing off the blanket, perspiring heavily. "Robert, it's very hot in here. Could you open a window?"

After groping for – and with – the latch for a spell, he finally could comply with her wishes. "Bloody hell, it's cold. Are you sure you want that open, Cora?"

"Yes. I'm very hot." She observed that he was unsteady, and hoped it wouldn't register with him that she was in the middle of a hot flash. "Where've you been?" For he'd obviously been elsewhere – and for a while.

"Talking to a gentleman in the bar car." He settled upon some version of the truth as he settled physically on the seat opposite her.

Cora sidled next to the desk, picking up a sheaf of papers with which to fan herself. "You look like you could use some water." She arched her eyebrows, conveying that she knew he'd had far too much to drink and wouldn't let him say no to water.

"I'm fine, Cora." He peered at her fanning herself. "It looks like _you_ are the one who could use water." He stood up and poured her a glass, spilling some on the floor of the compartment, then, as the train rocked, spilling a good deal of it on her.

She looked down. "Ordinarily that would cause me to jump, but it actually feels nice right now, so I won't complain." She took the water from him, drinking it down and setting the glass on the desk, fanning herself again. "I think I might stand in front of the window." With that, she moved around the desk to the open window, letting out a sigh.

"Is it really that warm in here, Cora?" Robert asked. "Are you quite well?"

"Yes, Robert, I feel fine. Just very hot." She closed her eyes and breathed in the cold air.

Sitting down again, Robert rested his head back, starting to hiccup. Cora looked over at him and merely rolled her eyes. _Dear God, he's going to snore tonight, but it may not matter if I'm this confoundedly uncomfortably warm_, she thought.

"Have you had anything to eat?" she asked. He kept his eyes shut, his head back against the wall, hiccupping. Cora raised her voice. "Robert, are we going to dinner?"

Robert's eyes snapped open. "Yes, of course, Cora. Why are you shouting?"

"Because you didn't answer me the first time." Shaking her head, she put down the sheaf of papers and took her dress off. She expected to hear some sort of remark from her husband, but when she looked over at him, he'd already closed his eyes again and fallen into a doze. Rolling her eyes once more, she set about changing into dinner attire, having cooled down somewhat while standing in front of the open window.

Once she had finished changing and rearranging her hair, she walked toward the door. Robert wasn't exactly dressed formally for dinner, but at least he wasn't rumpled like she had been, and she was too hungry to stand on ceremony. "Robert." He'd begun to snore, and Cora considered simply leaving him behind. She looked around and spotted a throw pillow. Snatching it up, she shrugged and walked to the door again, throwing the pillow at him. _Well, that's a proper use of that, isn't it? _she thought.

The pillow hit him square in the chest, and he woke with a start. "What was that?" His eyes moved from the pillow on the floor to his wife, who stood by the door with her hands on her hips.

"Dinner? I'm hungry. And you might close that window, please, on your way over here." Cora's eyes sparked blue with annoyance, and she put her hand on the door latch, waiting.

Robert attempted to stand three times before he managed it, prompting a "tut" from his wife. Instead of making him feel ashamed, however, her exasperated look seemed to have a different affect. Robert smirked at her as he closed the window and then stumbled over to the door. Before Cora could open it, he put his hand gently over hers on the latch and snaked his arm around her waist, stepping close to her.

Looking down at her, he asked, "May I have a kiss before we go?"

If she hadn't had the door behind her, the smell of Scotch on his breath might have knocked her backwards. She wrinkled her nose, but couldn't help liking the glint in his eyes. "Oh, alright then." She sighed as if this was a great imposition.

Bending his head, Robert kissed her full on the lips, leaning against her, pressing her back against the door. The intensity of this taking her by surprise, Cora staggered. Their hands inadvertently pushed down upon the latch, and the press of their bodies against the door opened it, spilling them out into the passage and against the opposite wall. This somehow striking them both as hilarious, they laughed. Then Robert looked up the corridor, and, seeing no one coming, he placed a hand on her face and kissed her again.

As his lips trailed down to kiss her neck, Cora became aware of motion up the corridor. "Robert…?" she whispered. "Darling…"

"Yes?" he asked, barely stopping long enough to utter the one word.

"We're blocking the passageway. And there are people coming toward us…." Even as she said this, she tilted her head back so he could continue kissing down to her collar bone.

But her words did register with him, and, even as he kept his lips in contact with her skin, he stepped backwards into the compartment, pulling her with him, Cora fumbling to pull the door with her. She giggled and made sure neither of them had a hand on the latch once the door was shut.

Robert leaned back and looked at her, grinning. "Now, we can lock that door and stay right here…" He kissed her neck again to illustrate his meaning. "…or we can have dinner and come back and…" With that he kissed her on the mouth.

Cora's arms slipped around his neck, more than ready now for the first option, when her stomach gave a loud grumble. Breaking the kiss, he looked down at her stomach while she giggled again.

Looking back up at her, Robert touched her face tenderly. "That's right. You didn't have any lunch." He gave her another quick kiss on the lips. "The latter it is, then." He smiled and guided her out into the corridor toward the dining car.

Their brief interlude having cleared his head somewhat – at least from its haze of inebriation – Robert made it down the passage and into the dining car without having to use the wall for support, leading Cora by the hand. However, he still remained drunk enough to retain his decreased inhibitions, and after waiter seated them and Cora, opening her menu, asked him what he was thinking of having that evening, he replied in a low voice, "Nothing they serve in here, my darling…."

Over her menu Cora's face reflected a mixture of shock and delight. "Robert Crawley!" she whispered, a blush touching her cheeks.

He gave her a cheeky grin. "You asked." He winked at her.

Cora grinned despite herself and hid her face behind the menu. But she managed to slide one of her shoes off, and touched an unshod foot to his ankle under the table.

Robert's face lit up at this unexpected contact, and after she'd withdrawn her foot from his ankle so she could focus on the menu – her stomach having growled again – he worked one of his own shoes off.

"Robert, honestly, the waiter will be back to take our order soon. What would you like for dinner?"

"I'll have whatever you order as well. Have you decided yet?" His foot sought hers under the table, and, upon finding it, he began rubbing his foot up her leg, his gaze intent upon the back of her menu behind which her face was still hidden.

Cora had ever so slightly jumped when she felt Robert's foot touch hers, and she was grinning like mad behind the menu, grateful for the long tablecloth which concealed their rather scandalous actions – and for the Scotch which seemed to have had a most incredible affect upon her husband that night.

She endeavored to sound stern. "No, I haven't decided, and if you keep that up, I won't be able to concentrate long enough to do so." Her tone wasn't as stern as she would have liked; the smile on her face wouldn't allow it.

Crossing his arms, Robert pulled his foot away, leaned back, and grinned. "Better?"

Lowering the menu just enough for him to see the mischief in her eyes, she answered, "For the moment." Cora perused the menu again, and said, "How about roast beef, mashed potatoes, and a green salad, Robert?"

He barely heard her, as he was thinking of later, but he answered abstractedly, "Oh, yes, that sounds nice, my dear." Then her words sunk in, and he added, "For a starter…"

She was still thinking of food. "Oh, yes, dessert…" Her eyes moved to the dessert list.

Robert gently tugged the menu out of her grasp. "I have dessert all sorted." He looked at her in a way that indicated that he would not be gainsaid.

At that moment the waiter appeared, and Robert told him what they wanted, then had the waiter lean down so he could whisper a few further instructions to him. The waiter left with a "very good, m'lord," and Robert smiled at his wife.

"Well, I am looking forward to seeing what that's all about." She winked at him and began running her foot over his ankle again.

Anyone observing the Earl and Countess of Grantham waiting for their dinner to be served might think that they were uncommonly quiet and still, albeit obviously wrapped up in each other, as their intent gaze into one another's eyes never broke for a moment and they each had what might be considered silly grins on their faces. What an observer didn't see was the heat they were creating between each other under the table. At one point, Cora's foot moved so far up Robert's leg that he had to grasp her ankle in his hand and gently remove her foot. His lips twitched. "You keep that up, and we won't be able to stay through dinner," he whispered.

At this juncture the waiter returned with their meals. Cora waggled her eyebrows at Robert and mouthed, "Later."

Apparently Robert was hungrier than he originally thought, because he tucked in with great appetite, prompting Cora to chuckle and say, "Darling, slow down. You'll get hiccups again."

He looked up at her and smiled. "I want my dessert."

Still not sure what he'd planned, she simply pointed out, "You won't be able to partake of said dessert and enjoy it nearly so well if you have the hiccups."

Robert laughed at this, but slowed down.

Finishing before her, Robert watched her and listened to her make happy noises. He didn't want to rush her through her meal, as it was only the second full meal she'd eaten that day, but her happy noises were reminding him of other happy noises he'd like to be the cause of…. He leaned forward and put a hand upon her knee under the table, working his foot back into his shoe simultaneously.

"Cora, darling, are you almost done?"

His wife smiled at him and continued chewing, pointing at the few bites of food left on her plate with her fork, indicating she only had a little more left.

She looked so delighted with her meal that Robert answered her smile with one of his own and leaned back again, partaking of the last of the wine while she cleaned her plate.

Robert put his hand on her knee again, grinning at her. "Are you ready to go back now?"

Cora put a hand over his on her knee. "I thought you said we were having dessert."

"We are. As soon as you're ready to leave."

"Robert," she whispered, "There better be a real dessert involved here, preferably something with chocolate, or I'm going to be sorely disappointed."

He looked slightly hurt. "You don't trust me?"

Cora slid his hand slightly up her thigh. "I'm sorry, darling. Of course I do." She released his hand and began putting her shoe on.

Robert had begun grinning at her again, and before standing up, he gently squeezed her thigh, sending an electric current coursing through her body. She wondered how quickly they could get back to their compartment and grasped his hand, leading the way.

Just as they were about to exit the car, Robert heard someone behind him call his name. He turned to see the war acquaintance he'd shared a drink with earlier. The man approached him and began talking. Not wanting to be rude, Robert stood and spoke to him, hoping he wouldn't be long.

Cora stood behind her husband, clearly not within view of the gentleman, or at least he didn't seem to notice her there. So she took the chance to admire Robert from the back, grinning, and thinking she might be a bit mischievous… then thought better of it. Fortunately, Robert made his excuses to the man, who seemed to want to prattle on, in the next moment. Turning, he took her by the shoulders and turned her as well, hurrying her down the corridor.

"I thought he'd never shut up," he muttered, prompting her to walk quicker.

"Robert!" she chided, laughing, "You'll make me trip!"

"I'm sorry, darling. I'm just… let's just say I need my dessert."

She blushed, trying to walk faster, exclaiming, "My goodness!"

They arrived at their compartment, and Robert opened the door for her. The cabin had been turned over for the night, the seats changed over to beds, and two chocolate mousses sat on the desk waiting for them.

Cora laughed. "Well, you _did_ think of everything, didn't –" As she turned to face him, he gathered her up in his arms and covered her lips with his, then almost immediately deepened the kiss, dipping his tongue into her mouth to touch hers.

When he finally drew his head back, Robert breathed, "The very sweetest dessert."

Her eyes still flashing with mischief, she grasped the lapels of his jacket and ran her hands along them. "Well, I don't know about that. We haven't tried that chocolate mousse yet, have we?"

Grinning, Robert silently released his hold on her and took the few steps over to the desk, picking up one of the chocolate mousses. Spooning out a taste, he held it up in front of her. Moving closer to him, Cora opened her mouth so he could feed it to her, keeping her eyes on his. Robert put the spoon to her lips, watching her very deliberate motions in tasting the mousse, feeling himself getting hot under the collar.

"I think you need one more taste to be sure, don't you?" he said in a gruff voice.

Cora nodded slowly, opening her mouth again to receive another bite. He put the spoon in her mouth once more, and this time she made one of those delightful noises that pleased him so.

Hoping he knew which way she would answer, Robert asked, "Now, which dessert would you prefer?"

A slow smile crossed Cora's face as she wrapped Robert's tie around her hand and pulled him toward her, pressing her lips against his. Giving him a gentle, tender kiss, she paused to whisper against his mouth, "Always you, my love. I will always prefer you." Then she stepped even closer to him, her body nearly touching his, and he dropped the dessert dish in his need to wrap his arms around her.

Cora didn't even notice that him drop anything, too enthralled to be within his embrace. Letting go of his tie, she pulled off her gloves and threw them behind her, whereupon she began unbuttoning things – his garments, her garments, she didn't care. Comprehending her intent, Robert tried to do the same, but he was still somewhat intoxicated, and he became irritated with his own clumsy attempts to help her undress.

Pulling away from her, he swore at himself.

Cora stared at him. "Whatever is the matter?"

"I can't make my fingers work right." Robert hated how stupid it sounded.

Stifling a giggle, Cora made her face look as understanding as possible. "I see. Well, I'm not sure you're correct, darling. Come here." She took him by the hand and stepped over the spilled mousse, sitting him down on one of the berths. Standing in front of him, she put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself against the swaying of the train.

Robert looked up at her, unsure what she had in mind. Cora bent her head down and kissed him intensely, then put her lips to his ear, whispering, "I bet that if you stop thinking so much about it, you'll find that your fingers work exactly as you need for the important things." She looked him in the eye, her own face full of mischief and desire.

Leaning forward to kiss her again, his hands slid down her legs and then up beneath her dress, his fingers finally doing just as he wished in removing her undergarments, pulling her down upon his lap, and finding the juncture between her legs. As long as she could think coherently, her own fingers worked to continue unbuttoning, unlacing, loosening, and divesting both of them of their garments.

Most of their clothing had been thrown across to the other berth by the time Cora reached the point where her own fingers would no longer work. Ascertaining her state, Robert maneuvered them so that she was lying on her back, he positioned to where he could demonstrate proficiency with not only fingers, but mouth and tongue.

Crying out not once, but several times in the space of a quarter of an hour, Cora finally struggled to sit up, panting heavily. "Robert…" It was the first word she had been able to speak intelligibly.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, beginning to kiss his way up her body, lingering upon abdomen, breasts, the hollow of her throat, until he was stretched out beside her on the narrow berth, one hand resting on her hip.

"See?" Cora said, her hand caressing his face as she continued to pant. "Your fingers work just fine. Quite a lot more than fine, if you ask me…" She gave a low laugh and slid her hand to the nape of his neck to play with his hair.

"I aim to please, darling." Robert grinned at her.

"Oh, you most certainly do, and I do so want to reciprocate, my love…" Pulling his head toward her, she kissed him, and soon they were completely entangled in the sheets of the berth together, Robert succumbing willingly to intoxication of a different variety.


	12. Chapter 12

2 November 1921

Fingers scratching upon the door of the compartment woke Robert the next morning.

"Your lordship?" The voice of the steward was loud enough to be heard but not so loud as to be intrusive.

"One moment!" Robert barked out, rubbing his eyes and casting a glance upon Cora to make sure he hadn't wakened her. They were stretched out together on the slightly bigger berth where they'd fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning, a sheet loosely draped over them. Cora's back was against the wall while Robert faced her, still holding her. Cautiously, he disentangled their limbs, tucking the sheet around her and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

As he rolled over to stand, he nearly fell off the narrow berth, his feet hitting the floor with an unquestionable thump. Robert looked over at his wife again, but she slept peacefully. Drawing his dressing gown from its hook, he wrapped it around himself as he crossed the short distance to the door, unlocking and opening it just enough to see the steward.

"Lord Grantham, is everything alright? They've almost finished serving breakfast in the dining car, and we are set for an hour's stop soon."

His head still slightly hazy from yesterday's indulgences, Robert stared at the steward for a moment before answering, "Yes, right. Well, we will be missing breakfast today. A stop, you say?"

The steward nodded. "Yes, your lordship. A routine stop."

Robert thought another moment, then lowered his voice a little. "Do you think they sell flowers at the station?"

Smiling, the steward nodded again. "Most assuredly, my lord."

Robert smiled at the steward and left him with strict instructions to make sure that his wife was not disturbed, that she needed rest, and that the berth would have to be made up later. Then he went about getting washed and dressed as quickly and quietly as possible, noting the cessation of the train's movement during this process. Still Cora slept on.

Scribbling a quick note and leaving it on the desk for her, in case she woke while he was absent, Robert slipped out of the compartment and off the train.

Cora awakened not long after Robert had departed. Having gotten used to the noise and motion of the train, the stillness was odd. She stretched and looked around, frowning. Then she spotted the note on the desk. Wrapping the sheet around her, she stood and opened it.

The note read: "My darling. Thank you for a particularly glorious night. I couldn't bear to wake you, as you looked so serene resting there. The train has made a brief stop, and I am nipping out for a little while on an errand. I will return very soon. Love, Robert"

Cora smiled and put the note back on the desk, deciding to dress and be ready for her husband's return. Choosing a dress gave her pause, however, as several of the ones she brought with her were beginning to cut off her circulation, a couple of these particular favorites of Robert. She sighed and settled on something that would allow her to breathe easier, loathe to tell him that she would need to visit her dressmaker when they got home, if for nothing more than to let out most of her current dresses.

The door opened just as she completed her toilette, and Robert grinned as he stepped into the compartment. "You're awake! Did you get my message?"

"Yes, I did, darling." Cora could see that he was hiding something behind his back. "What do you have there, Robert?"

His grin widening, Robert pulled a bouquet of orchids and roses from behind him. "It was a very important errand, Cora."

Cora said nothing, just put her arms around him and buried her head in his collar. Robert slid an arm around her, smiling, then felt her tears. Setting the flowers down on the desk, he touched her cheek. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? The flowers are supposed to make you smile, not cry."

She lifted her head, revealing a tear-stained face with a rapturous smile. "But they have."

Attempting to wipe away her tears with his thumb, Robert kissed her forehead. "Well, that's good then. For a moment I wondered if I'd done something wrong."

"Oh no. No, no." She rested her head on his chest, her tears still falling. Robert embraced her tightly, unsure what to do. After a few moments, she whispered. "I'm sorry. I honestly don't…. They're beautiful."

Robert held her closer and said against her hair, "I'm glad you like them, but why on earth are you apologizing?"

Cora settled more comfortably within the circle of his arms, raising a hand wipe her eyes. "Because you did this lovely thing, and I'm crying."

"I know I never understand this, but I think – I hope – you're crying because you're happy. I'd be upset if there was no reaction at all."

Her tears having slowed down to next to nothing, Cora chuckled. "I'm sure you didn't expect me to burst into tears, though."

Robert put a hand under her chin and lifted her head so he could look at her. "It did surprise me a bit. But then, you manage to surprise me every day."

She smiled up at him. "Well, at least I'm not boring then."

"No, you most certainly are not – never have been – that." Robert took his handkerchief out of his pocket, gently dabbing away the last traces of tears. Her reaction had reminded him of all the things he'd been trying so hard not to think about lately. Perhaps it was time to say something. "Cora, are you alright?"

As Cora regarded the concerned crease across her husband's forehead, she understood that this was more than a casual question. He was worried about her, and she didn't want him to be. She looked down. "Of course I am, Robert."

Sighing, Robert commented, "One thing you've also never been is a good liar."

She raised her head and looked him in the eye. "No, you're right. I'm not. But, to be honest, I'm unsure what's happening to me. I feel fine - most of the time. But, at other times..." Cora shrugged.

"At other times what? How do you feel the other times? You need to let me help you if I can, please, Cora?" His voice entreated her.

Cora gently stepped out of his embrace and went to sit on one of the berths, looking down at her hands. "I know you've noticed, or else you wouldn't have asked, wouldn't look at me…" lifting her head to meet his eyes, "…like you are now." She sighed and lowered her head again. "I'm hungry, I get hot flashes, I'm tired…"

"…you have strange dreams and fidget and cry out in your sleep. You…" Robert cleared his throat. He thought perhaps he shouldn't mention the mood swings, so he fell silent.

"I what?" she asked.

"Nothing, just…" He walked over to her and knelt in front of her, taking her hands. "Cora, you're right. I _am_ worried. I want you to see the doctor when we get home. Please. For me."

Hearing the desperation in his voice, Cora thought she might cry again. She squeezed his hands. "Robert, I'd like to talk to Isobel first. I don't feel unwell, I promise you." She wanted so badly to reassure him, to erase the furrow from his brow.

Robert tried to smile, feeling a bit better to hear these things from her. "I think that is a good idea, to talk to Isobel when we get home. In the meantime, if you don't feel right, tell me, and I will do my best to help you feel better."

"You already do, my darling." Cora gave him a tender look.

He looked sheepish. "I'm sure I didn't help yesterday by being drunk."

A grin formed at the corners of her mouth. "Honestly, Robert, it turned out alright. Didn't it?"

Robert smirked at her. "I thought it a vast deal more than 'alright.'"

Cora leaned forward to kiss him. "So did I," she whispered, then laughed as her stomach gave a loud growl.

"Come along, sweetheart. We both missed breakfast, and I believe they're serving luncheon now." He stood up, pulling her up with him.

"Robert?" She grasped his hand as they crossed the room. "The flowers really are beautiful. Thank you."

He paused before opening the door, turning to her and kissing her again. "You're welcome, my love. You deserve them. And so much more."

Robert led her down the passage and into the dining car. As they sat down and perused the menu, each felt as if at least one weight had been lifted from them. Robert had told Cora that he was concerned about what he could see happening to her, and Cora had at least acknowledged that something was indeed amiss. However, neither wanted to make the other more anxious. So husband kept his suspicions hidden, endeavoring to keep them even from himself, and wife left undisclosed her own understanding of her circumstances, unwilling to make her situation permanent with words.

Around them, the dining car began to fill with passengers, voices rising and falling with conversation. Robert and Cora spoke only little, largely occupied with their own thoughts. Cora ate copious amounts of food, and Robert bit his tongue about it.

"Dessert?" he inquired, as he inspected the menu after they finished their entrees.

Cora didn't answer him. He looked over the top of the menu at her. She was pulling at the neckline of her dress and drinking water, her face flushed and ringlets forming across her forehead where she was perspiring. Suddenly, she snatched the dessert menu from his hand and started to fan herself with it.

"Are you getting another hot flush?"

Robert's voice sounded very loud in the dining car, as he happened to ask just as there was one of those inexplicable collective lulls in conversation. Several people turned their heads to look their way.

Certain that it wasn't possible, nevertheless Robert beheld Cora go an even darker shade of crimson. "Tell the entire Orient Express, Robert!" she hissed, embarrassed and evidently angry.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, Cora," he mumbled, looking down at the table.

"Speak up – I can't hear you," she snapped at him, still waving the dessert menu wildly in an effort to cool herself down.

He looked up at her, making his voice clearer. "I said I'm sorry, Cora. I didn't mean to speak so loudly." He coughed gently and tried to rectify the situation. "Would you like dessert?"

Cora pursed her lips together, uncomfortable and annoyed. "No, I don't want dessert, Robert."

She stood up and started out of the dining car before he was even sure what was going on. He got up, hastily throwing his serviette on the table and following her. Cora walked so quickly that he could barely keep up, only catching up to her when they got to the door of their compartment. She opened the door, turning around immediately, the menu still in her hand.

"Where do you think you're going?" she spat.

Robert stood just outside the door in the hallway, staring at her, bewildered. "I thought…" He wasn't even sure what to say, certain that anything he said would be wrong.

Cora shook her head, jabbing a corner of the menu into his chest. "No. I saw how you watched me eat." She jabbed him again. "I will eat as much as I like because I'm hungry, and you…" – jab – "…won't say a confounded word about it." She jabbed him in the chest one last time for good measure. "Now as you so helpfully pointed out to everyone in the dining car, I am in the middle of a hot flash, and I am very tired, and I am taking a nap." She raised her voice with every phrase, until now she was almost yelling. "_You_ can just take yourself off to the bar car, since I know that's what you like to do!"

"But, Cora – "

He recoiled as she shoved him aside and slammed the door shut, his heart dropping when he heard her lock it. "Ouch," he muttered pathetically, rubbing the spot where she'd kept jabbing the menu in his chest, and frowned. He didn't understand what he'd done that was so bad that she'd felt the need to lock him out. He knocked on the door. "Cora – sweetheart – please…"

"No," he heard her call through the door. "Go away."

Robert sighed heavily, recognizing that tone of voice. It was Cora at her most obstinate, and he knew she would not back down any time soon. Defeated, he made his way to the bar car as he'd been told to do. He knew she was being sarcastic and cutting, but he wasn't sure where else to go, and all of a sudden he desperately needed a drink.

"Perhaps I _should_ have mentioned the mood swings," he mumbled to himself, shaking his head.

* * *

Cora leaned back against the door after her husband's footsteps faded away. She resumed fanning herself with the dessert menu, still terribly hot. The steward had made up the room while they were lunching: the berths turned into seats, their clothes put away, the spilled chocolate mousse cleaned up – and her flowers put in water for her.

Walking over to inhale the roses' fragrance and touch the delicate orchids, Cora felt horrible, and not just physically. Her husband – her wonderful, caring, albeit sometimes misguided and clueless husband – had done nothing wrong. And she knew it. She'd known it when she shouted at him, known it when she practically slammed the door in his face. She was being ridiculous and unfair – and she hated herself for it. But she also knew she couldn't help it.

Dropping the menu with which she'd poked him as if it were scalding her, she opened the window instead. She closed her eyes and breathed in the cold air rushing into the room. It wasn't too long before she felt her normal temperature again, and she closed the window, went over to a seat and sat down.

Cora still felt miserable. And exhausted.

Pulling one of the throw pillows toward her, she curled up on the seat and put the pillow under her head, falling asleep almost immediately.

* * *

Robert found himself in the bar car yet again, drinking Scotch and smoking a cigar. He had been happy to recall that he'd stowed the extra cigars from his officer friend in the inner pocket of the jacket he wore. It was the one positive thing to happen since luncheon, so he decided to sit alone in a comfortable chair in an inconspicuous corner of the bar car, drink, enjoy his cigar, listen to the piano music, and watch the people around him.

A few men, like him, appeared to be alone, drinking their beverages of choice in relative silence. Several groups spilled over onto multiple sitting areas – these being the noisiest and rowdiest of the length of the car. But the majority of drinkers there were sets of two. Of these, there were pairs of men conversing together and one or two sets of women friends, but most were couples. Some drank together in silence. Robert's eyes, however unbidden by him, seemed to seek out those who were chatting and laughing together spiritedly, many holding hands and stealing quick kisses, never mind the public setting.

Robert grew envious. He missed Cora. But Cora had locked him out. And so, depressed and confused, he drank.

As he drank – he had lost count of how many glasses again – the people in the bar car grew fuzzy, so instead of seeing sets of people together or apart, they all became one huge lively party of people. Eventually the piano player left the car to have his afternoon tea, and Robert was sad. There should be entertainment! There should be song!

A brilliant idea came to Robert as he sat there, an idea in the form of a song Bates had taught him during the Boer war. Robert stood and made his way to stand in front of the piano. After taking a moment to hum a few notes to find the right pitch, he opened his mouth and sang, somewhat tentatively:

"The wind blew high, the wind blew cold,  
It blew across the moor,  
When John Jones said to Jane, his wife,  
'Get up and bar the door.'"

A few of the people closest to him stopped chatting and, curious, turned to listen to the drunken man singing at the piano. Encouraged by this and giving his audience a little smile, Robert continued, his voice gaining strength:

"'Oh, I have worked all day,' said she,  
'I've washed and scrubbed the floor,  
You lazy man, get up, I say,  
Get up and bar the door.

"'Oh, I have worked so hard,' said he,  
'I know I can't do more;  
So come, my own, my dearest wife,  
Get up and bar the door.'"

As he sang, more of the words came back to him – and more people listened to the rich baritone voice. By the third verse, several of them joined in the last line. Robert grinned at them, his confidence bolstered. So he sang out, loud and clear now:

"Then they agreed between the two,  
A solemn oath they swore,  
That the one who spoke the very first word  
Would have to bar the door.

"The wind blew east, the wind blew west,  
It blew all over the floor,  
But neither one would say a word  
For barrin' of the door.

"Three robbers came along that way,  
They came across the moor;  
They saw Light and walked right in,  
Right in through the open door.

"'Oh, is the owner of this house  
A rich man or a poor?'  
But neither one would say a word  
For barrin' of the door."

By now, everyone in the bar car had started to laugh, listening to the song, and those who knew the words were drunkenly singing parts of it with him. Robert was enjoying himself immensely.

"They ate the bread, they drank the ale,  
Then said, 'Come, give us more.'  
But neither one would say a word  
For barrin' of the door.

"'I'll kiss his pretty wife,' said one,  
'Oh, her I could adore.'  
And then the old man shook his fist  
And gave a mighty roar.

"'Oh, you'll not kiss my wife,' said he,  
'I'll throw you on the floor.  
Said she, 'Now, John, you've spoken first,  
So get up and bar the door!'"

At this, the entire car – which, through Robert's song, truly had become one large lively party – gave a cheer, laughing and drinking. Robert laughed with them, but the last verses had given him pause. He still missed his own pretty wife.

The inhabitants of the bar car called out for another song. Robert stared around, amazed. They wanted him to sing again, and they let out a collective groan of disappointment when he began moving toward the corridor.

"Don't worry!" he yelled over his shoulder. "I'll be back!"

Finding the door to his compartment (and checking with the steward that it was indeed his own), Robert tested the latch. Still locked.

So Robert took a deep breath and knocked, crying out – probably much louder than he needed to – "My pretty wife, it is me! Let me in!"

Waking from her nap on the seat of their cabin with a start, Cora nearly jumped ten feet in the air. "What on earth…?" she breathed, sitting there.

A moment later, she heard his voice again. "Beautiful dreamer, wake unto meeeee, moonlight and stardrops are waiting for theeee…"

Robert had decided that if she had not woken, he'd wake her with song. Unfortunately, some of the words were lost to him, so he made them up. And his voice was not nearly as suited to ballads as they were to bawdy songs, so his inebriation came through much more than it had in the bar car.

She hadn't answered yet, so she must still be asleep. He kept on, his voice growing even louder, "Sounds of the rude world, heard in the daaaayyyyy, drowned by the dewshine have all passed awayyyy…"

At this, Cora opened the door, an exasperated look on her face. If his vision weren't so blurry, he might have perceived the corners of her mouth twitching. She said nothing, so Robert stepped into the room, pulling her into his arms to dance with her while he sang the part of the song he knew best, "Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song, list' as I woo theeeeee with soft melody…."

Here he let her go so he could caress her face with both hands and softly kiss her. Remembering and regretting her earlier behavior, knowing she was the one responsible for his spending the afternoon in the bar car, she let him.

When he ended the kiss, she looked at him, her lips still twitching with barely contained mirth. "Scotch."

Robert nodded and grinned. "You should have a drink. It's great fun, Cora. It will make you happy." His expression changed in an instant, his right hand stroking her cheek very gently. "I want you to be happy."

Cora's expression matched his now. "I know you do."

"Good," he said, his face now painted with a wild grin. "Come with me." He grasped her hand and pulled her along with him out of the room, hardly even stopping to close the door behind them.

"Robert, where are we going? What are we doing?" Cora followed him because he clasped her hand so tightly she wasn't sure she could detach herself.

His other hand running along the wall to keep himself from staggering, Robert threw a few disjointed phrases behind him: "Bar car…. singing…. piano man gone…. make you happy…."

Befuddled otherwise, one fact manifested itself very distinctly to Cora at this point. Her husband was as drunk as she'd ever seen him. And perhaps more.

Unexpected was the noisy hurrah that greeted them from nearly the entire car at their entrance. Even less expected was Robert's response: he snaked his hand around her waist, pulled her to his side, and pointed at her, exclaiming, "The pretty wife!"

Cora colored deeply as another huzzah arose from the car.

"Give us another song then!" came the voice of one of the merry-makers.

"Just a moment!" Robert replied with a chuckle. "I want to make sure my darling is settled first."

Staring at him, so disconcerted she wasn't sure what to say or do, she allowed him to escort her to a table near the piano, where a few ladies were sitting. "Look after the wife, will you?" he requested of them with a wink. Before Cora had time to feel ruffled or angry at this, he pressed a tender kiss to her brow. "She's the treasure I prize above all others," he said. The words were addressed to the ladies, but his eyes were on her, making her blush. She knew that, despite his current state of intoxication, it wasn't just an empty statement.

Robert left her in the care of these women to stand once more in front of the piano, his face screwed up in thought.

"Oy! Barkeep! Let's get this pretty lass a drink!" the woman sitting next to Cora cried out lustily. Robert looked over and winked at Cora this time, and, although still somewhat flustered and half desiring to seek the shelter of their compartment again, she rewarded him with a smile.

It was this smile that reminded him of another song. He stood there, trying to remember the words, looking between the floor and Cora. In the meantime, Cora's drink had arrived – she wasn't even sure what it was, but she drank it, beyond questioning much of anything at this point.

Robert murmured the verses, glancing at his wife. Something one of the women said must have made her laugh, because her face wore an expression of amusement and she clutched her stomach as she often did when anything struck her as particularly hilarious. Robert's smile at her merriment turned to a look of abject terror as a thought flashed to the forefront of his mind. Cora's touch to her stomach reminded him of his suspicions, and he admonished himself for being so stupid as to encourage her to drink, no matter how small the possibility of it being true. But he didn't want to alarm her, and she had begun to relax under the influence of the genial beverage. He had another idea. He stepped over to the bar to have a word with the bartender.

"I thought we were going to have another song!" This statement was met with cries of agreement.

Turning to face the room, Robert bellowed, "Can't a man have one minute to have a word with the barkeep? Bloody hell! Keep that up, and there won't BE another song for you lot!"

"Sorry!" the original man called out. "Carry on then!"

When the sounds of chatter picked up again behind him, Robert beckoned over the bartender and instructed him to make sure that any other drink his wife had while they were in the car would be mostly water rather than liquor. Handing over a very large wad of bills to the bartender to make certain this would happen, and getting the bartender's solemn word along with a vigorous nod and wide smile, Robert clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man." Casting another look at his wife, who was now prattling gaily with the ladies next to her, he added, "And I'll have water the rest of the evening." As drunk as he was, he was coherent enough to realize that if he passed out, this would only add to her worry. And he didn't want to do that. He wanted to make her happy.

Finally ready, he stepped in front of the piano once more. Finding his note again, he began. Whereas the first time it had taken a few verses for anyone to really pay attention, this go round there was a collective whoop of approval as he began the first line.

"In Amsterdam there lived a maid,  
Mark well what I do say;  
In Amsterdam there lived a maid,  
And she was mistress of her trade."

Here Robert waved his hands to indicate that anyone who knew the song should join in the chorus:

"I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid!  
A-roving, a-roving, Since roving's been my ru-I-n,  
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid!"

With the next lines, Robert fixed his gaze upon Cora, who returned his gaze with a blush.

"Her eyes are like two stars so bright  
Mark well what I do say  
Her eyes are like two stars so bright,  
Her face is fair, her step is light."

As the room joined in the chorus, Robert crossed over to his wife and, taking her hand, pulled her up to stand with him. She protested at first and tried to sit back down, but he insisted, and she had finished the first, undiluted, drink, her face flushed and her head light. As he began the next verse she shrugged and walked over to the piano with him.

"I asked this fair maid to take a walk,  
Mark well what I do say  
I asked this maid out for a walk  
That we might have some private talk.

"I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid!  
A-roving, a-roving, Since roving's been my ru-I-n,  
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid!

"Then I put my arm around her waist…" Robert suited action to words, and Cora was too surprised to object, and he kept going with the song while another cheer arose.

"Mark well what I do say!  
For I put my arm around her waist  
And from her lips snatched a kiss in haste!"

Robert gave Cora a quick but decisive kiss upon the mouth while the others started raucously into the chorus. She giggled, beginning to enter the spirit of the thing.

Sitting upon an empty chair by the piano now, Robert pulled her onto his lap. She looked as if she might jump up, but he held her firmly by the waist, singing out:

"I took that girl upon my knee,  
Mark well what I do say!  
I took that girl upon my knee,  
Says she," - at this juncture, Cora piped up, her strong, sweet alto taking Robert by surprise – "'Young man, you're rather free.'"

Robert grinned at her as the chorus rang out around them, suddenly remembering where he'd learned the song in the first place. From her.

"I put my hand upon her thigh…" Cora's eyes widened, but she let him put his hand there.

"Mark well what I do say!  
I put my hand upon her thigh  
She said, 'Young man, that's rather high!'" As she took over the maid's part, Cora dramatically pushed Robert's hand off her thigh with a waggling of her finger.

"I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid!  
A-roving, a-roving, Since roving's been my ru-I-n,  
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid!

"I put my hand yet higher still…" Cora's blush reached up to touch her hairline as Robert's hand rested upon her hip in the middle of the bar car. But she merely laughed and listened to his rich voice:

"Mark well what I do say!  
I put my hand yet higher still  
She said, 'That gives me quite a thrill!" She covered her mouth in fake shock with one hand and put her other hand on his.

"I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid!  
A-roving, a-roving, Since roving's been my ru-I-n,  
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid!"

Cora put her arms loosely around his neck as his hands returned to her waist, both singing out the last verses of the song, a few others' voices joining with theirs. And everyone had caught on to the chorus:

"She swore that she'd be true to me,  
Mark well what I do say!  
She swore that she'd be true to me,  
But spent my money both fast and free.

"I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid!  
A-roving, a-roving, Since roving's been my ru-I-n,  
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid!

"In three weeks' time I was badly bent  
Mark well what I do say!  
In three weeks' time I was badly bent  
Then off to sea I sadly went.

"I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid!  
A-roving, a-roving, Since roving's been my ru-I-n,  
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid!"

The bar car dissolved into a sea of laughter, Robert and Cora laughing just as boisterously as the rest, their foreheads pressed together, her arms still around his neck and his hands on her waist. After a few moments, he led her into a corner of the bar car – the very same corner he had occupied alone earlier – ignoring any other requests for songs. The piano man returned shortly thereafter anyway, and the car filled with dynamic tunes, the drinkers content once more.

What had been a huge lively group under Robert's influence broke up into singles, smaller groups, and pairs once again. However, as they sat together, drinking water (for Robert) and very watered down liquor (for Cora, who of course didn't know this and believed she would soon be more intoxicated than her husband), laughing, chatting, holding hands and stealing kisses, Robert didn't care. He realized they were one of those couples he'd envied earlier. And now others could envy them if they liked. _There is much to envy_, he thought, as he basked in his pretty wife's smiles and bright blue eyes.

They sat for about another hour there, the car a blurr around them. Then Cora started nibbling on his earlobe and Robert knew it was time to take her back to their compartment. He took her hand and helped her up, leading her down the hallway, finding himself slightly less inebriated than he had been when they'd been going toward the bar car.

As he opened the door, fumbling with the latch, he felt Cora press up against him, patting his behind. Robert chuckled, successfully working the latch. He pulled the door open and swung her inside, closing and locking the door – but not before the steward sitting at the other end of the passage was treated to the sound of Cora's shriek of delight.


	13. Chapter 13

3 November 1921

"Robert, please, don't stop. That's marvelous," Cora murmured breathily.

Thinking he was dreaming, Robert kept his eyes closed, not wanting it to end. Within a minute, though, he became aware of the fact that he was indeed awake. Cora had woken him, quite similarly to how she had been doing many nights now, except there was one marked difference: the type of dream.

Robert and Cora had fallen asleep on one of the berths, Robert's back to the wall and her back to his chest, spooned together, not having bothered with nightclothes. They'd been too exhausted. Now Cora squirmed in his arms, panting heavily and continuing to murmur in a low voice. Not wanting to wake her, Robert closed his eyes again and tried to think of anything but what she might be dreaming.

It didn't work.

Cora kept pressing herself back against him, brushing him in such a way that he couldn't help but become aroused – particularly combined with the increasingly sensual noises she was making in her sleep.

Robert attempted to be still, but his hands seemed to have minds of their own as he was finally unable to resist any longer the desire to cup one of her breasts and caress her abdomen while he nuzzled his face into her neck. As wild as her nearness, her motion, her murmurs and sighs drove him, he managed to restrain himself from doing anything further.

But only just.

In the meantime, Cora's dreaming self experienced the most incredible of sensations, feeling as if Robert's hands were everywhere at once: one created heat between her legs as the other moved up and down her back. Impossibly, though, one also fondled a breast and another tenderly stroked her just below the navel, while his lips and tongue traced along the side of her neck and down to her shoulder and back up again. Robert filled her senses until she felt completely awash with pleasure – and need.

"God, please, Robert… now…," she cried out, and it took everything Robert had in him not to comply.

Woken by her own outcry, Cora opened her eyes, perceiving that his hands were indeed upon her – although not nearly everywhere – and his mouth nibbled upon her neck. It was a matter of seconds before she became very aware of his arousal, hard against the small of her back.

Overheated by her dream, paired with his own real tender attentions, Cora begged him, whispering, "Please, please, I need you..." and pressing herself back against him.

Robert's motions remained unchanged, even if Cora heard his frustrated groan against her hair and felt his hands still briefly before resuming their gentle caressing of her skin.

"Robert…" She was almost whimpering now, and Robert pulled his head away from her neck, surprised by the change in her voice. He wondered if –

His wondering was put at an end when she suddenly stretched her arm out behind her and curled her fingers around him. Cora was definitely awake.

"Thank God," Robert moaned as she wriggled herself into the just right place for him to push into her at last, prompting a gasp from her that was both delight and relief.

As he thrust into her, Robert ran one hand over her body as it writhed next to him, raining kisses down upon her hair and neck, shoulders and back. Within minutes Cora had reached release, but Robert continued, whispering both endearments and naughtiness into her ear between kisses. Cora wondered a little that his other hand remained on her abdomen, his touch there feather light even as his other hand explored her body in a way that was almost frenzied. This frenzied touch settled between her legs and – in addition to the blush-inducing sentiments Robert was still whispering in her ear – stirred her again into a place where thought was banished and only feeling remained.

Robert could soon only breathe heavily against her hair, his concentration centered upon holding on long enough for her to climax a second time before he achieved his own. After what seemed to him to be an age, she cried out once more, shuddering and tightening around him, sending him completely over the edge in mere seconds.

Panting from his exertions, he wrapped his arms more securely around his wife, the one hand persisting in its tender touch upon her abdomen. For he'd remembered something in the middle of all that, and suddenly the pieces had seemed to fall into place. He couldn't be absolutely certain, of course, and in a way it pained him that he wasn't, in case he turned out to be wrong…. But he would act as if it were true until proved otherwise, even if Cora didn't know herself.

Kissing her just below the ear, Robert whispered, "I love you."

Cora, already falling into a doze, sighed happily, nestling back against him before they both fell into a deep sleep once more.

* * *

Robert and Cora shared one last meal on the Orient Express, breakfasting several hours later in the dining car. Their bags were packed, and it wouldn't be long until their arrival in Paris.

While they had dressed earlier, Robert reflected over the notion he'd seized upon during their coupling in the middle of the night. In the clear light of day, it appeared even more likely to be the explanation behind his wife's odd behavior and habits of late. But he didn't want to alarm her or get her hopes up – as he had his own. So he decided to stay the course he had already set: to keep quiet, watch, and wait until he could take her to a doctor. He sneaked peeks at his wife while they dressed and packed their things away, hoping that his countenance wouldn't betray him.

At breakfast, Cora decided to be a bit playful with him. Calmly eating her eggs and bacon, she asked, "I wonder if the chicken or the egg came first. Last night, I mean." She hid her pleasure at the somewhat shocked expression on his face.

Recovering quickly, Robert cleared his throat and drank a little tea, then answered, "Well, ahum, if you mean the dream or the, er, 'attentions,' it was the dream."

Cora pretended to be intent on cutting her omelet with the side of her fork, throwing out the seemingly offhand comment, "My, that must have taken some self-restraint on your part." Only a flicker of her eyes revealed that she was teasing him.

Suppressing the urge to blurt out, _You have _no_ idea_, Robert replied, "Yes, quite," his face flushing slightly as he had another bite of toast and his eyes flickering to hers in the same manner she had done.

"However did you manage?" Cora spread marmalade on her own toast and flicked her eyes at him again.

Robert nearly choked on his toast. Drinking down a large gulp of tea, he coughed several times behind his serviette while Cora tilted her head in confusion. She was more confused when he frowned slightly. "Cora, I may not be many things, but I hope that I am always a gentleman." He paused to pour another cup, having drank his, then looked at her straight on. "You were unavailable for consultation."

Gazing at him, her mouth twitched uncontrollably. "Well, darling, I do admire your patience and, er, self-control until I was." Watching his face begin to contort with the struggle of keeping it straight, Cora began to laugh, breaking his concentration utterly and causing him to laugh as well.

When they'd calmed down enough to begin eating again, Cora said, very seriously this time, "Robert, it was a very good dream. But the reality was so much better."

Robert smiled at her, then leaned across the table to whisper, "Then the effort of restraint was worth it."

* * *

After departing the train, finding their hotel for the night, and depositing their luggage with the bellmen – not stopping even to examine their suite – the pair began exploring the streets of Paris hand in hand, armed with only a guidebook and a map. They had decided at dinner one night before they'd even left Venice that they would wander through Paris with no fixed goal in mind; they would see what they saw and fully enjoy wherever they happened to end up. Their only planned activity was to climb the Eiffel Tower just before sunset.

They ambled around, much as they had done many days in Venice, Cora's eyes lit up with excitement and Robert deriving as much pleasure from this as he did from the sights. They spent the rest of the morning in this manner, then sat themselves down to a splendid lunch at a cafe, where Robert nearly chuckled aloud with glee at how much she was eating. Cora didn't notice anything amiss, simply divided her attention between her plate and her husband's happy, handsome face.

Once they began their rambling again, it wasn't long before Cora pointed ahead of them. "Robert, isn't that the Louvre?"

Consulting the map, Robert nodded. "I believe it is."

"Should we go in? I know it's a museum that one could easily spend days on, but I'd hate to be this close and not see some of it at least."

Robert chuckled. "Darling, you know me and museums. You don't have to ask me twice." He led her by the hand into the museum, where she stood and gaped until he began guiding her around.

They stared at paintings and sculptures, reading information cards and exchanging views upon what they saw. Then Robert asked, "Did you know this place was originally a castle?"

Cora turned to him. "No, I didn't. It's a beautiful place. What else do you know?"

"Oh, not too much else. Various things that I've read in books. It was built in the 12th century, but has been a museum since the late 18th century."

"Well, it's incredible." Cora looked around her in fascination again as they moved throughout the rooms. She did her best to take in, to appreciate, the famous paintings, some of which she'd seen only in black and white plates in books, some she knew from badly colored prints. It was nothing like seeing them in person. She quickly became completely absorbed by everything around her.

Robert watched her evident delight and smiled to himself. After nearly two hours, he squeezed her hand. "Shall we see the museum's pride and joy?"

"The Mona Lisa?" He nodded, and she said, "It would be a shame if we didn't. Now that we're here."

"Yes, it would be." Robert felt a tingle of excitement when she kissed him gently on the cheek, pleased that she would kiss him, even if only on the cheek, in the middle of a crowded museum. True, they'd been more relaxed in Venice, where public displays seemed to be the done thing. And of course there were their drunken shenanigans in the bar car of the train. But even in the City of Love, the throngs inside the Louvre appeared to be the prim and proper sort, a sad reminder that the time was upon them that their stolen kisses and surreptitious petting would have to be well and truly hidden – or stopped altogether.

Although it had been that way for most of their lives, Robert had come to appreciate the freedom their holiday had afforded them, the freedom he felt to kiss his wife in the street if he liked, without fear of ridiculous gossip. There was already enough chinwagging about how close the Earl and Countess of Grantham were. Robert almost laughed out loud to think of what sort of gossip there would be if – when? – it was announced that his fifty-three year old wife was carrying another child. Honestly, though, at this point he didn't care. Let them talk.

So he bent down to kiss his Cora on the cheek, and then on the temple, grinning at her. "Let's go find it."

Cora beamed at him and wrapped her arms around his, walking with him until they stood in front of the painting at last. "Robert, it's stunning," she sighed.

Robert turned to her and remarked in a very low voice, "I appreciate it, Cora, but I don't think I understand the hullabaloo over it."

She continued to stare at the painting, wiping a tear from her cheek. "You don't have to, darling."

Tilting his head to one side, he endeavored to comprehend why everyone said it was so amazing. However, he was interrupted by Cora abruptly withdrawing her arms from his. Robert watched her eyes go wide as she covered her mouth with one hand, turned, and began pushing through the crowds surrounding the Mona Lisa. He followed behind her, startled and worried, as she broke into a run toward the nearest exit.

"Cora!" he yelled after he too had made it out the door. Looking left and right, he finally spotted her bent double over some bushes growing against the building. Robert hurried over to her, ascertaining fairly quickly that she'd been ill. He handed her his handkerchief, which she used to wipe her mouth before standing straight again, looking at him quite pitifully.

"I'm sorry," she said through the handkerchief.

Robert put his arm around her shoulders. "Nonsense, sweetheart. There's nothing warranting an apology." He'd remembered seeing a Wallace fountain nearby, so he steered her there. When they'd reached the public drinking fountain, he took his gloves off and cupped water in his hand for her to be able to rinse her mouth, then offered her more to drink. Then he looked at her seriously. "Are you alright, Cora?"

She nodded at him with a small smile. "Yes. I'm quite well now." _Damnit_, she thought. _Here come the questions_.

He did ask a question, though not one she expected. Drying his hands on his coat and putting his gloves back on, he asked, "Tea?"

Faintly baffled, Cora replied with a question of her own. "What about the Louvre? We could go back in if you like."

Robert shook his head and gently tucked a wayward lock of her hair behind her ear. "It's quite stuffy in there, darling. And I think we should have tea before climbing the Tower." Actually, he had a suspicion that she would be hungry again very soon.

Sure enough, Cora's stomach gave a soft rumble. "Oh!" she said in surprise. "Perhaps that's a good idea, my dear." She smiled while he took her hand.

Unable to hide his grin, Robert made sure to walk slightly ahead of her. He didn't want to have to explain to her why he was smiling after she'd just been embarrassingly ill in the bushes by the Louvre.

Cora, however, was grateful that he walked ahead, because she did not want him to see her face either. Unlike Robert, she wasn't smiling anymore. Quite the opposite, in fact. Fortunately her sigh was lost in the sounds of all the other people on the sidewalks with them.

Composing himself, Robert stopped in front of one of the cafes with a view of the Eiffel Tower. He looked at her, thinking that there was a hint of displeasure on her face before the corners of her mouth tilted up into a smile. "Will this do, sweetheart?"

"Yes, this looks nice," she replied, not as brightly as she would have that morning.

He peered at her, starting to become genuinely worried now. "Are you _sure_ you're alright, Cora? We can go back to the hotel, and you can have a lie down—"

Cora put more of an effort into a show of good spirits, "No, that's not necessary, Robert. I'm fine. Might we have our tea inside? I'm a little cold."

Robert was unconvinced by her pretense of cheer, but he let it go for the moment. They were shown to a table by the window and so able to take advantage of the view without having to experience the chilly November air. Robert ordered them a tea, and then took Cora's hand in his across the table.

As he opened his mouth to speak, Cora lifted her other hand to stop him. "Please don't ask me again if I'm alright, Robert. I'm fine." There was a note of irritation in her voice.

Frowning, he leaned back a little, but kept hold of her hand. "I wasn't going to ask that. But if you say that, I don't think you'll respond positively to what I _was_ going to say."

Cora bit her lip, angry at herself for snapping at him. "Please tell me, Robert."

He sighed and looked at her imploringly. "I want you to see a doctor when we get home. Not just Isobel. I would feel better if you did."

Taking her hand away from his and putting it in her lap, she looked down at the table, wanting to be very careful of what she said. "I – I don't need a doctor. At least, I don't think I do. Please, just let me talk to her."

Robert stared at his empty hand. He knew there was something she was concealing from him, and it made him uneasy, doubtful of his own conclusions. As the waiter arrived with their tea, he pulled his hand off the table. Somehow he would convince her to see a doctor.

Cora watched her husband as she poured tea and he put pastries and bread on his plate. There was a crease across his brow. She sighed. The doctor would probably say exactly what Isobel would. If it would help him worry less, why not?

Passing him his teacup, she cleared her throat. "Robert?"

"Yes?" He didn't look up from his plate.

"I'll see a doctor."

Robert's eyes flew up to meet hers. "You will?"

Her smile was warm. "Yes. I still want to telephone Isobel first. But I'll go to the doctor too, if it makes you feel better about everything."

Reaching for her hand again, he was happy when she met him halfway. "It does, darling. Thank you."

Cora looked at the veritable feast sitting in front of them, her stomach growling insistently now, but she couldn't eat until she said one more thing. Meeting Robert's eyes, she said, "I'm sorry I'm so difficult lately."

Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed the back of it. "You're not." She raised an eyebrow at this. "Alright, perhaps a little. But nothing I can't manage." He winked at her and kissed her hand once more.

Chuckling and muttering what sounded to Robert like the word "incorrigible," Cora took her hand away once more, but only so she could fill her plate and start eating. Robert grinned and drank his tea, watching her.

"You know, my dear," he said after draining his teacup a second time, "that one tiny hitch in our afternoon aside, I've had a most marvelous day so far."

She looked up from her fifth croissant and grinned at him. "Have you?"

"Of course." He leaned closer to her and said in a low voice. "I've had you on my arm."

Cora gave another chuckle and blushed. "You can be quite charming when you want to be, Robert Crawley."

"I'm happy it works on you. You're the only one I want to charm."

Lowering her eyes, Cora blushed a little more. "Keep that up, and I may not care to climb the Eiffel Tower this afternoon." She looked up again, giving him a saucy glance. "More tea, darling?" she asked, smoothly, but still smirking.

"Yes, please." He held out his cup so she could fill it, then drank, keeping eye contact with her over the rim.

"So have you come up with plans for us for later this evening, Robert?" Cora kept her eyes on his as well, having finally had her fill of pastries and croissants.

Robert smiled. "We're in the City of Love. What do you think?"

"I'm not sure what that would include for us particularly… except one thing." She waggled her eyebrows at him ever-so-slightly.

Feeling a trifle warm now, Robert took her hand again. "I did think about getting tickets to the theater…." He leaned closer and whispered, "But I didn't want to share you with anyone else our one night in Paris – and our last night alone together."

Cora flushed pink with pleasure at this. "I don't want to share you either," she replied.

"Then I'm certain we can find ways to keep one another occupied," he said, letting go of her hand to finish his tea, grinning.

She, too, picked up her teacup. "Why, I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Her tone feigned ignorance, but the wicked gleam in her eye contradicted her.

"Oh, I'm sure you don't, Mrs. Crawley." He continued to smirk at her, drinking the rest of the tea. Patting his stomach, he observed, "I shall have to think of a way to work off all the pastries I've just had."

Raising an eyebrow, Cora said, "I can help you with that," before putting the teacup to her lips again.

Lifting both his own eyebrows, Robert asked, "Oh, you can, can you?" He couldn't stop his grin spreading from ear to ear.

Reflecting his grin on her own face, Cora merely nodded.

Not taking his eyes from her face, Robert beckoned over the waiter and pulled his wallet from his inside jacket pocket.

Cora leaned close to him and whispered, "The Eiffel Tower will still be there tonight, won't it?"

"It's been there for over thirty years now, I expect it will still be there in a few hours." He chuckled.

Slapping his arm playfully, she laughed. "You know exactly what I mean, Robert Crawley."

After a pause to settle the bill, Robert answered her. "Oh, yes. I know exactly what you mean. Are you ready?"

"Most definitely," Cora breathed, taking his hand again. "Which is the quickest way back to the hotel?" she whispered in his ear once they were outside.

Robert pulled the map out of his coat pocket and examined it, then pointed out to her the various streets on it. "This way. It shouldn't take too terribly long, my darling." He grinned at her and set a hurried pace toward the hotel.

When they arrived, only having gotten lost twice, Robert decided to stop at the desk to see if there were any messages for them. Cora leaned up and whispered salaciously in his ear, "I'm going on upstairs. When you join me I'll play valet for you." The next word she almost hissed, her breath hot on his earlobe: "Naked."

His face lit up immediately, and, passing her the room key, he gave her a lustful look and said in a low voice, "Well, I'm not going to argue with that." Completely unmindful of the lobby full of society's "best" – _I'm still on bloody holiday!_ – Robert pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

Then he almost jumped when Cora furtively patted his backside as she walked away. Robert stood, momentarily stunned, simply watching her walk. As if she knew he would be frozen to the spot, she tossed a cheeky glance over her shoulder at him before climbing the stairs.

Robert stood there another minute to compose himself – he imagined the Cheshire cat grin upon his face might cause the desk staff to wonder if he'd been at the bottle all afternoon – before approaching the desk and asking if there were any messages for Lord and Lady Grantham. He was surprised when he was handed a telegram addressed to him from Downton.

Although Robert had sent several telegrams home to let the household know of their changes in plans and to reassure that all was well with the two of them, they had not received any in return, as he'd given strict instructions to the family and to Carson and Mrs. Hughes that he did not want any problems from home to interrupt their holiday – unless it was an emergency. So it was with a certain amount of trepidation that Robert took the telegram into a corner of the lobby, sat on a chair, and pulled the small piece of paper out of the envelope.

The telegram read: _Papa sorry to bother but wanted you to be aware stop; OBrien up and left stop; dont tell Mama it will only upset her and trying to get OB back stop; will see you soon stop; love to you both Edith stop._

Robert read the telegram twice through, pausing on the last line. "Love to you both." She could have – and perhaps a few years ago would have – simply had them put her name. Something about the fact that Edith, their headstrong middle daughter, made sure to close the telegram with love, and to them both, caused his breath to catch and his eyes grow moist.

Going to pull his handkerchief out of his pocket, Robert found it missing, then remembered that he'd thrown it away after Cora had used it to wipe her mouth after being ill. So he brushed a hand across his eyes instead and read the message once more, this time concentrating on the rest. If he was honest, the loss of O'Brien would be no skin off his nose, as he'd always considered the woman quite odious and Cora's attachment to her incomprehensible. However, Edith had the right of it. Cora would be greatly upset by this news. Robert sighed. Another thing to keep from her.

Tucking the telegram away, he made his way up to their room, closed and locked the door behind him, and called out, "Cora!"

Hearing nothing, he crossed to the bedroom and went inside. And, as quietly as possible, laughed.

Cora was asleep.

She'd managed to get completely undressed and apparently had stretched out upon the bed to wait for him. Robert remembered that they had had a late night, their sleep (most deliciously) interrupted, an early morning, and she'd been ill besides. And if what he thought was true…. He covered her up with a blanket and kissed her forehead, closed the door silently behind him and sat down at the writing table to compose a telegram.

After he'd called down to the front desk to have someone take care of sending the telegram, he poured himself a Scotch and read over it again, nodding:

_Edith thank you for information stop; Mama shant know until arrival home if necessary stop; miss you darling girl stop; love Papa stop._

A soft knock on the door announced the arrival of one of the desk employees to take the telegram. Robert tipped the man handsomely to ensure that it would be sent straight away. Once that was taken care of, he sat down beside the telephone with his Scotch and rang down to the concierge to start planning their evening in Paris.

* * *

Approximately two hours later, Cora awakened in the darkened bedroom of the suite. She reached over to turn on the light, the blanket that covered her sliding down as she sat up. Looking around the room, she frowned. She got up and went over to the wardrobe to retrieve a dressing gown, put it around herself and opened the door, spotting Robert on the settee reading the newspaper.

"Why didn't you wake me?" she queried, walking toward him.

Robert lowered the paper and looked at her. "I knew you were exhausted, and I wanted to spend a nice evening with you in Paris. I didn't want you to be tired whilst we enjoyed our night."

Cora pouted a bit. "I didn't get to be your valet."

Chuckling, Robert put the newspaper aside, stood up, and went to her. "You can be my valet later, darling." He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. "But now, if you're feeling alright, we should get dressed for dinner. The concierge recommended an excellent restaurant." He let her go and, on a whim, smacked her on the behind as he walked past her toward the bedroom.

"Robert!" She sounded shocked, but giggled and followed him.

"That's payback for that little pat in the lobby earlier." Robert grinned at her as pulled out his dinner clothes.

Cora sat at the vanity table, her face now serious. "I am alright, Robert. And I want our last night completely alone to be marvelous."

Pausing in undressing, Robert stepped over to the vanity and leaned down to look her in the eye. "It will be." He kissed her on the forehead. "If you get dressed." He winked at her and went back to do the same.

And so, smiling, Cora got dressed.

After what both agreed to be a superb dinner, Robert and Cora strolled hand in hand through the beautifully lit streets of Paris toward the Eiffel Tower, talking, laughing, and admiring the city. Robert even stopped them a few times to utilize what he was sure would be his last opportunity to pull his wife into a passionate embrace and kiss her in the middle of a public thoroughfare without fear of causing a stir. The Louvre was one thing, but Paris after dark? There was a reason it was known as the City of Love.

As they neared the Eiffel Tower, Robert began to wonder if this was such a smart idea after all. Might it be too strenuous for her? Should he suggest they return to the hotel? He looked at Cora's face, though, and knew it was no good. She had been looking forward to it for days now, and her expression was one of unconcealed glee. Robert sighed to himself and took her arm firmly as they approached the tower.

"Cora? Mightn't you want to take the lift?" He tried to suggest this as delicately as possible.

"That's no fun, Robert. I want to climb it. As far as we can before we get tired." Cora turned her bright face on him and he knew it was no use. She was determined.

They climbed the stairs, pausing at intervals to catch their breath and take in the view. While Cora kept saying things like "Isn't it glorious?" and "How breathtaking it is, Robert!," Robert maintained a steady stream of "Are you sure you aren't tired yet, Cora?" and "Perhaps it's time to start back down." He sustained his viselike grip upon her arm and insisted on going a snail's pace up the stairs.

About halfway up, Robert's behavior had thoroughly killed the romantic mood for Cora. All of a sudden, she rounded upon him in extreme vexation, prying his hand off her arm. "What on earth is the _matter_ with you?!"

Robert's eyes darted around, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Nothing, Cora."

"The hell it is!" Her eyes shot sparks at him, but confusion featured in her visage as well.

Flinching at her shout, Robert stood up straighter and lowered his voice. "Cora, I don't think this is the time, nor the place." There was no anger, only a sense of urgency in his tone.

Cora stood there, her fists balled up by her sides, staring at him. "No, you're right." She unclenched her fists and began gesticulating wildly with her hands, prompting other climbers to give her a wide berth. "This is the time and place for holding hands and taking in the view! For romance and kissing! For you to put your arm around my waist and pull me closer to you! It's not the time and place for 'you must be tired' and 'we should have taken the lift'! Look around you, Robert!" She spread her arms wide. "We're in Paris! We're climbing the Eiffel Tower together, and instead of whispering naughty or even loving things in my ear, you're being ridiculously overprotective!" Grasping his lapels, she stepped very close to him, her voice changing somewhat, becoming softer, her eyes pleading. "And if you don't care that it's Paris, then look at me. It's the last night of our holiday, and I want to spend it with my husband. Not a nursemaid."

Looking into her eyes, Robert felt like a complete heel. In his own need to protect her, he'd ruined her evening. Gently, he put his hands over hers and ran his thumbs over them. "Oh, Cora. I'm so sorry. I…" He lowered his eyes and took a deep breath, then lifted them to hers again. "After what happened this afternoon… I'm just worried. But it gives me no excuse to spoil our night in Paris." He brought her hands to his lips and kissed them each in turn. "Forgive me?"

"Will you act the way you're supposed to? Like my Robert?" She was skeptical.

Nodding, he kissed her hands again. "I promise." He started to grin. "Shall we carry on?"

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Alright then."

As if to seal the promise, Robert bent his head and kissed her for several minutes, pressing her hands to his chest. Then he wrapped an arm around her waist so they could continue up.

Robert and Cora reached the top of the Eiffel Tower. They stood there looking out over the city lights for quite a while, most of it in companionable silence, each thinking their own thoughts, but with Cora's head on Robert's shoulder, Robert's arm still around her waist, holding hands, with him placing kisses on her hair every so often. After a little time had passed this way, Robert finally leaned down and whispered something utterly scandalous to her, causing her to squeeze his hand in shocked delight and blush furiously, and prompting her to ask if it might be getting cold and that perhaps it was time to make their way back down.

"Yessss…" he hissed in her ear, grasping her hand and leading her down the stairs.

Their descent went much more rapidly than their ascent had, and Cora couldn't help laughing at the silly grin plastered across Robert's face as they stepped out onto the sidewalk and began walking back – very quickly – toward the hotel.

"Where's the fire?" she teased.

Robert turned briefly to smirk at her. "I'm not sure you really want me to answer that." Chuckling, he wrapped his arm around her waist again and picked up their pace.

"Oh my!" Cora laughed and concentrated on not tripping over her own feet. "But, Robert, I can't walk this fast!"

Slowing his steps just enough for her to keep up, he said, "I'm sorry, darling. There's just, you know, the fire."

"Robert, you're blushing!" She giggled, hurrying along beside him.

"I, um, ahem." If anything, he turned a deeper shade of crimson as they reached the hotel lobby.

Robert opened the door to the suite and let Cora step inside before turning to close and lock it behind them.

Cora gasped. "Oh, Robert! How beautiful!"

For the room was aglow with candlelight, a fire had been lit, and a bottle of champagne sat chilling in ice.

Robert stepped in front of her, his gaze adoring, worshipful as it swept over her delicate features and landed upon her eyes, still the most brilliant blue he'd ever seen. He rested his hands on her cheeks. "How beautiful," he breathed, before capturing her lips in a heated kiss.

Sighing against his mouth, Cora wove her fingers through his hair. Too soon, in her opinion, he pulled away, taking her coat and laying it across the settee, his eyes never leaving her face. She took off her hat while Robert removed his own coat, hat, and gloves – then his shoes and jacket. Depositing all these upon the settee, he stood in front of her and drew off her long evening gloves slowly, deliberately, caressing her forearms, her palms, and each finger – still maintaining his eye contact with her – sending electric currents through her entire body. Leading her to a chair, he knelt in front of her and unbuckled her shoes, pulling these off her feet with just as much deliberation as he had her gloves, his hands grazing over her ankles and stroking up the back of her calves.

Cora gave an involuntary shiver, smiling down on him while he turned to put her shoes next to his own under the settee.

Standing, Robert took her hands in his and brought her with him in front of the fireplace. Cora hadn't noticed it before, but on top of the thick ornamental rug, a large, fluffy blanket had been laid out, and beside this was a very low table where the champagne and glasses, as well as a covered dish and two cloth napkins, rested. Helping her sit on the blanket, Robert stood just long enough to pour each of them half a flute of champagne. Then, handing her a glass, he sat down next to her and uncovered the dish.

"Strawberries. Oh, Robert…. I don't know what to say. I thought you didn't have anything planned for tonight?"

Robert grinned at her evident enchantment with the stage he'd set for them. "Well, I had a couple of hours I didn't know I would have this afternoon. Whilst someone slept." He kissed her hand. "It was a perfect opportunity to make sure I had something wonderful planned for my beautiful dreamer."

Cora blushed and lowered her eyes. When she lifted them again, she found that Robert's gaze was as intent upon her as ever it had been, and she suppressed the urge to lower her eyes again, meeting his steady gaze instead. "What shall we drink to, my darling?"

Raising his glass, he said, "To us. Always to us." He paused a second before adding, "And whatever else life may hand us."

Wondering only briefly over this enigmatic addition, Cora raised her glass as well. "To us and our life together."

Clinking their glasses together, they each took a sip of champagne, their eyes locked.

"Robert? What was that all about?" She had another sip of champagne before taking the napkin and strawberries Robert proffered her.

"What, my love?" He bit into a strawberry. "Oh, that's nice."

"That 'whatever else life may hand us' bit of the toast." Cora neatly set a strawberry cap aside and started on a second one.

"Ah, that. Well.…" thinking quickly, and knowing he was a much better liar than she was, he said, "we've been through so much the past several years, and there's no telling what else we may have to go through still." He took the glass from her hand (happy to do so, as he didn't want her to have too much) replaced it with his own hand. "We're so much stronger together. And I do believe—" looking at her as if wanting her to confirm this "– stronger than we've ever been."

Tears stung her eyes at his words and the memories they evoked in her, as well as the near certainty she carried in her heart and could not bear to tell him. "Oh, Robert. My darling. I think you're right." Cora set her napkin aside, drawing closer to him on the blanket, grasping his hand tighter.

Putting his own glass down on the table, he enveloped her in his arms, her head resting naturally against his chest. Robert barely heard her whisper, "I hope you're right – with all my heart."

For untold minutes Robert held her against him, simply thanking God for all they had built together, all they still had, and all they might have in the future. He stroked her hair, listening to the crackle of the fire and the sound of her soft breathing.

On Cora's part, she was happy to sit there, leaning into his embrace. She thought she might cry, but his familiar scent and the strength of his arms reassured her, brought her peace.

Eventually, Cora began running her hands over his chest and around to his back, then returning to his chest. Hearing his sharp intake of breath when she happened to graze one of his nipples through his shirt, she lifted her head from his chest.

"Didn't I say I would play valet for you?" Her voice teased, caressed.

"I don't recall, Cora, did you?" He had already begun to breathe harder.

She nodded and leaned forward upon her knees, nibbling his earlobe gently. "I think I promised that I would be naked…."

Letting out a soft groan, Robert reached for her, but she slipped nimbly out of his grasp, standing before him and beginning to unbutton her dress, observing the changes in his expression, and putting a hand out to stop him any time it looked like he might stand up to help her.

Tugging her dress over her head, she flung it so it landed on top of the coats. Somehow while they were dressing, Cora had managed to slip on the delicate, sheer peach chemise Robert had bought her for Christmas the previous year. She made quick work of divesting herself of her other undergarment, until she was standing there in only chemise and stockings.

Unable to control himself any longer, beyond even her control, Robert bounded up and threw his arms around her, kissing her deeply, moving his hands down to knead her bottom through the sheer fabric, then up again into her hair. He plucked the pins and combs out, flinging them across the room, doing his best not to hurt her, but rejoicing when her tresses were completely unbound. Ending the kiss, he pulled back from her slightly, smiling at her and threading his fingers through her silken locks.

"I apologize," he whispered, burying his head in her hair as he spoke in her ear, inhaling the sweet lavender fragrance of the soap she used. "I believe I've mentioned before how much you make me forget myself, sweetheart."

Cora pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're forgiven for such things, my darling. But I'm not finished yet."

As Robert drew his head back to look at her, she pushed lightly against his chest, her expression coy. He stood back, his heart racing as she put a foot gingerly upon the low table and began oh-so-slowly rolling down a stocking. Cora had turned her eyes upon her task, intent upon what she was doing, and imagining his face, knowing so well the myriad manifestations of his façade and which ones would present themselves as she turned what he had most likely planned as his seduction of her into her seduction of him.

Cora knew Robert would love every delicious moment.

Hurling the stockings over onto the other garments, she set her eyes on his face once more as she untied the bows and ties on her chemise, finally sliding the straps off her shoulders so the peach confection fluttered to the blanket, a shimmery puddle around her feet.

"Now," she said. "Be very still." Cora grinned at him. "I'm not used to being a valet, Robert."

Gulping, Robert watched as she began loosening his tie. It wasn't like she hadn't undressed him many times before. But there was something about this time…. Her motions were tender, caring, yet seductive and coquettish. If he attempted to help her, she would push against his hands. The motions of her hands were followed by feathery kisses which caused his blood to warm at the same time that his heart leapt up within his chest.

While she unbuttoned his shirt and discarded it upon the growing heap of garments on the settee, then moved on to his trousers, Robert moved his eyes up and down her body, regarding her figure. He definitely discerned a new roundness to her which was most pleasing to him.

Quite oblivious to his careful examination of her naked self, Cora removed his trousers, his socks, and finally his undergarments, until they both stood together, grinning.

Robert ran his hands lightly over her forearms. "Well. That was quite a lot more enjoyable than having Bates undress me," he remarked huskily.

"I would hope so," Cora replied. She pulled his head down to whisper to him, overjoyed when his lips immediately latched themselves onto her neck, "I would hope he doesn't undress you naked either."

Pausing briefly, Robert pulled back and shook his head, replying, "Only rarely. But it's really not the same."

Cora giggled and reached around to smack him on his rear end. His mouth dropped in mock indignation.

"Cora Crawley! Well, he never does that. I should withhold his wages."

"Oh no, Robert. Don't do that." She pressed her body against his, wrapping her arms around his neck. "That's my job. You can withhold _my_ wages if I don't do it properly."

Robert placed his hands on her waist, pulling the lower part of her body against his – which was already responding to her touch and nearness. Leaning down, he growled in her ear. "Please, Cora, be anything but proper with me…." His lips traced the curve of her ear, and then trailed back to hers, where he gently bit her lower lip before covering her mouth with his.

Before either of them knew it, Robert had laid Cora out on the blanket in front of the fire, stretching himself out next to her, their hands and mouths roaming over each other's bodies in the candlelight and warmth of the fire – fueled by the heat of their own desire. Robert's attentions sent Cora plummeting over the edge multiple times before he paused and simply looked at her beloved face, tracing her features tenderly, then fixing her with a penetrating gaze.

"I'm not sure I could ever convey to you, by word or deed, just how much I love you, Cora, my beloved, my sweetheart, most precious mother of my children, my lover, and most trusted friend of my heart." Robert brushed her hair away from her face to caress her cheek.

Cora couldn't help looking down at his words, not trusting herself not to cry. "Oh darling," she whispered, "how can you ever doubt that every day you remind me just how very fortunate we are – I am." She looked up at him and smiled.

"When you look at me like that," Robert shook his head slightly, "I don't doubt it at all. But I am the fortunate one. You gave me something I never dreamed possible in what might have been a stifling life. You gave me love."

At that Cora kissed him, kissed him to show him just how much she loved him, kissed him to make up for all the times over the past several years she should have and didn't, kissed him so she wouldn't cry at how full and lovely and wonderful his words made her feel – and how keenly she felt what she knew to be the loss she would have to tell him of in a few days.

But the time hadn't come for that yet. The time had come for them to join, body and soul, Robert gaining permission - permission he always sought, whether verbally or through her silent assent – to make them one physically, for their bodies to unite as he already felt their souls had always been. Even when he hadn't known it, even when he forgot.

They were always one. Body and soul, heart and mind. Their heartlines the same.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: So, for this fic, I've stretched a few things; basically I did away with the S3 CS. So these events fit between the last regular episode of S3 and the Special. Forgive the liberty.

* * *

4 November 1921

Robert gazed out the window of the train that had collected him and his wife at London and that would deliver them to the Downton station in a few more hours. A crease between his brows, he watched the landscape go by for a while, then he turned his regard to Cora. Her head rested upon his lap as she lay curled on the seat to his right, her eyes closed in slumber. As the train rocked them to and fro, Robert gently stroked her hair… and worried.

The closer they got to home, the quieter Cora became, until she fell silent. They'd had tea upon boarding the train, and not one word had passed her lips – and very little else had either. However, their proximity to their destination appeared to have a different affect on how close she wanted him to her. She didn't want to talk, but she didn't want him to let go of her hand and even grew perceptibly anxious when he had to release her arm in order to instruct the porters and stewards about how they wanted their baggage. After tea, through which she'd looked down at her cup nearly the entire time, she simply laid herself down beside him, her head across his legs and her hand upon his knee, promptly falling asleep.

Although Robert would be the first to admit that, even after so many years of marriage, he still had not quite learned to read all of his wife's moods, he knew enough to know that something was wrong. He did recognize that she was melancholy over the fact that their holiday was over, but her behavior – the silence, the clinging – indicated more than post-holiday blues. Keeping one hand on her hair, he rubbed the other over his face, letting out a deep sigh. On top of whatever Cora was hiding – and he was sure she was hiding _something_, something that was troubling her deeply – a mess awaited them at home.

O'Brien hadn't returned.

Upon their arrival at the London station, a porter had given Robert a telegram (fortunately during the handful of moments that Cora was not next to him). Edith said that there had been no results in their search for O'Brien, and they had finally given up. Crumpling the telegram, he shoved it into his pocket and went back to his wife, noting how quickly she reached for his hand and how tightly she grasped it. It gave him pause, and he looked over at her face, but her eyes were focused elsewhere, her mind far away.

Looking down at her now, her face peaceful in repose, he contemplated having to tell her of the disappearance of her lady's maid. With her mood the way it was, he anticipated disaster. Especially as he still wanted her to telephone Isobel and the doctor as soon as possible. He had a feeling that, despite her assurances yesterday, she would balk at this.

* * *

Cora's silence continued on the ride home from the station. Not sure what to say to her, Robert didn't try to break it. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her hand, kissing the top of her head when she leaned against him.

During the last few moments of the drive, Cora spoke the first words she'd said in hours. "I'll miss having you completely to myself."

The house had come into view. "You can have me to yourself whenever you like, darling. You just say the word." Robert rubbed her shoulder reassuringly.

Cora simply nodded, not voicing the thought she had that it wasn't the same as being alone the way they had been on their holiday. She knew he was endeavoring to put her at ease, and she appreciated the effort, so she said nothing.

As the motor pulled up to the door, Robert removed his arm from around Cora's shoulders and took his hand from hers, capturing her face in his hands and gently running his thumbs across her cheeks. The inside of the motor was dark, but he could discern the shape of her face and that her eyes were focused on his. "I want you to know that I love you and that through anything that happens, I am right beside you." Robert leaned forward and kissed her briefly as the motor stopped and the chauffeur got out. In the next moment the driver opened the door and Robert dropped his hands, giving Cora no chance to answer him. In the light that now touched her face, Robert could see her smiling faintly at him as she exited the vehicle.

Robert gathered his thoughts as best he could as he accompanied her into the house, her hand firmly in his.

Carson led them into the hall, where Mrs. Hughes, Edith, and Tom waited for them. Cora thought the three of them looked nervous. As Carson took his place beside Mrs. Hughes, Cora and Robert exchanged greetings with Edith and Tom, Cora hugging both of them tightly, Robert kissing his daughter's cheek and wringing Tom's hand with a smile.

"But where's Sybbie?" Cora asked Tom.

Tom chuckled. "She fell asleep about an hour ago. The excitement was too much for her."

"Well, we'll see her tomorrow. And Edith, have you heard anything from Mary and Matthew?" Cora turned to her expectantly.

"Yes, Mama. I had a letter from Mary the other day, and she and Matthew are having a nice time visiting Grandmama in Newport. She said she misses home, though." Edith looked at her father. "She mentioned that she wrote a letter to you and Mama, Papa. It should be in the heap of post on your desk in the library. Right, Carson?"

Carson nodded. "I believe I saw a letter from Lady Mary delivered the day before last and added to the post for your lordship and your ladyship, yes."

Cora turned her attention to Carson and Mrs. Hughes. "And the house, Mrs. Hughes? Everything ran smoothly in my absence?" She chuckled and began to take off her hat and gloves. "But of course it did. You always make sure of that."

But as she looked at the pair again, she noticed them glancing at each other nervously. They shared the glances with Edith and Tom. And then they all looked to Robert as if for instruction. Cora turned an astonished face to her husband. Something had happened, and, by the guilty and apprehensive expression on his face, she could tell that he'd known about it.

"Robert?" she asked. "What's happened?"

Her husband exchanged a glance with Mrs. Hughes and then one with Edith, but Cora kept her eyes on him. They all seemed to agree that he should be the one to tell her the news. "Cora, darling," he said gently, taking her hand again. "O'Brien is gone."

Cora remained still. "What do you mean, 'gone'?"

Mrs. Hughes took a step forward. "Miss O'Brien left, my lady. Two days ago. She didn't say where she was going."

"She left?" Cora's eyes never left her husband's. Her face went white. "But – but why? Why would she leave? And like this? Why?"

Robert put his other hand over hers. "I don't know, Cora." He looked at Edith, who shrugged, then to Mrs. Hughes, who shook her head.

"She didn't say why either. She left me a note, Lady Grantham, simply saying that she had to leave, that she couldn't stay any longer." Mrs. Hughes made her voice as compassionate as possible. "Anna is here, if you would like her to attend you, my lady. She is free until Lady Mary's return. Or I would be willing to –"

Cora finally looked at her housekeeper. Her face contorted into some semblance of a smile. She knew the woman was trying to be helpful. "No, Mrs. Hughes. I don't want anyone. I'll be fine."

Watching her, Robert knew she needed to rest. "Darling, we should go up to bed. It's been a long day –"

"Robert, I'm fine. I would like my letter from Mary, please. Can we go get it?" Her voice was soft in volume, but firm in resolve.

Robert knew better than to protest. He squeezed her hand. "Of course we can. Carson, might we have some tea in the library?"

Edith came forward. "Papa, it's late, so I'll go on up. But I'll see you both tomorrow. Goodnight, Mama. I'm happy you're home." She kissed her mother and father, then shot a look at Tom, who jumped.

"Oh yes. I have an early morning on the estate, so I'll go up as well." Tom put one hand briefly on his mother-in-law's shoulder before following Edith up the stairs.

"Goodnight," Cora said faintly after them, detaching her hand from Robert's and heading toward the library.

Carson gave Robert a nod. "I'll get the tea, my lord." He absented himself, and Robert was left with Mrs. Hughes.

"Your lordship," she began, "I was hoping that I might have a word with you."

"Of course, Mrs. Hughes." He passed a hand over his forehead before looking at her.

Pulling an envelope out of her pocket, she held it out to him. As he took it, she lowered her voice, saying, "This was in with the note Miss O'Brien left for me. I wasn't certain whether I should give it to her ladyship or let you do it, my lord."

Robert examined the envelope, which simply read "Lady Grantham" on the front and was still sealed. He nodded at Mrs. Hughes. "I'll take care of it. I'm not sure she's ready to see it yet." He tucked it into his inside pocket. "Thank you, Mrs. Hughes. And thank you for trying to get O'Brien back. Lady Edith told me how hard everyone worked."

Mrs. Hughes gave him a sympathetic smile. "We knew how upset Lady Grantham would be."

"I should go now. We'll discuss this later." Robert smiled at her and went into the library.

She was standing in front of his desk, and there was a pile of envelopes on the floor next to her feet. "Cora? What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for Mary's letter," she said innocently, dropping another envelope down beside her.

"Why are you putting everything on the floor?" He walked over and knelt down beside her to begin scooping up the discarded post.

"It's not here, Robert." Ignoring his question and his attempts to pick up the rest of the post, she dropped the last envelope at her feet.

Adding this one to the others, he set them back on the desk. "Come here and sit down, sweetheart." He took her hand and led her to the settee. "I'll look again for you." Kissing her forehead, he started back to the desk, but paused. "Ah, tea. Thank you, Carson. That will be all for now."

Carson inclined his head in acknowledgement and left, pulling the door closed behind him. Robert poured Cora a cup of tea and put it in her hand. She sipped at it absentmindedly, staring straight ahead.

Sighing, Robert went back to the desk and quickly flipped through the pile of post, locating the letter fairly easily. He picked it up and turned to Cora, keeping the envelope behind his back.

"Cora? Weren't you going to telephone Isobel once we got home?" he asked tentatively.

Her eyes focused upon his. "Please, Robert. Not tonight."

"Cora, we agreed yesterday."

"Yes, I know. But… please. Not tonight – not yet." Her voice pleaded with him.

He stepped closer. "I know you're tired, and that you've had bad news, but wouldn't it be better to know? Whatever it is?"

She put her cup down on the table next to her and slowly shook her head. "No, not yet," she whispered, fear gripping her heart.

"Cora." Robert felt himself getting angry.

Cora kept shaking her head.

"When then?" His face reddened.

"I don't know." Her chin tilted up and her voice grew stronger, a sure sign of stubbornness taking over.

Robert swung around and banged the letter down on the desk, startling her. "Cora, we agreed that you would, and I've been quiet about it all day, but already you are going back on your word." He walked to the drinks cabinet and poured a Scotch, drinking most of it before turning to her again. "If you don't ring her first thing tomorrow, then I will ring Clarkson to come around and examine you. It's your choice."

Standing, Cora nodded. "Yes. It is my choice. And I know I'm disappointing you by going back on my word, but I'm not ready to talk about it yet. Not even with Isobel, and certainly not with Dr. Clarkson."

His voice rose. "It's your choice? It has nothing to do with me?" He knew he was angry because it hurt him that she wouldn't let him help her. That she knew something was wrong, and she wouldn't tell him what. It cut him to the core. He drank the rest of his drink down and slammed the glass on the drinks cabinet. He started to walk toward the door. "Well I hope 'you' sort it out; I am off to bed."

Cora gaped at him with her mouth open, slightly stunned. His words, their inflection, stung her as if he'd slapped her.

Seeing this, Robert felt instantly sorry for what he'd said. But before he could apologize, her eyes grew wide and she covered her mouth, dashing out of the room. "Cora?" he called out behind her, then followed her out of the room. Catching a glimpse of her on the stairs, he rushed after her and into their bedroom, hearing her being ill in the washroom. Sighing, he closed the door behind him and walked around the bed to wait for her, pouring a glass of water from the carafe on her bedside table.

After she rinsed her mouth out in the sink, Cora opened the door, almost running into her husband. He handed her the glass of water, then led her to the bed, sitting beside her.

"Are you alright, darling?" He didn't let go of her hand.

Finishing the water, she put the glass down and turned a small smile on him. "Well, I've been better."

Robert didn't smile. "Will you let me telephone the doctor now?" He paused, then added, "I don't mean this moment; tomorrow."

Cora looked him straight in the eye and nodded. "Yes. And I'll do it myself."

Sliding his arm around her shoulders, Robert sighed. "It upsets me to see you unwell, Cora."

"I know, my dear. And it was unfair of me to break my promise to you. But…" She looked down at their hands, taking a deep breath.

Robert shifted on the bed so he could see her face better. He lifted her chin so her eyes would meet his. "What, Cora? What is it?"

Gazing at him for a moment, she then turned her head, her eyes fixed on the bedspread. "I'm afraid it's 'the change.'" Her voice trembled.

His brows drawing together in confusion, Robert asked, "The what?"

Cora kept her eyes on the bedspread. "It's when a woman is no longer able to have children."

He could hear her struggle to keep back tears, could see that she's thought this for days now, that it's what she's been keeping from him. Robert let go of her hand, embracing her and holding her tightly to his chest.

Somewhat surprised by his reaction, she nestled into his arms, gave a deep sigh, and tried not to cry. "Do you see why I didn't want to know?" she whispered.

Robert lightly rested his chin atop her head, weighing his words carefully before responding. "Yes. But it's not as if we were counting on having any more children, is it?"

Cora pulled away from him so she could look at him, touching his cheek. "Robert, I never stopped wanting to give you another child. If only wanting it in a small way. And I know there was only ever the smallest of chances, but if..." – here she faltered, catching her breath – "if this is... true..." She stopped to blink back tears. "Then there's no chance at all."

Robert's mind raced as he placed his hand over hers on his cheek. She had unburdened herself to him, finally. But the nature of her disclosure made him want to guard his own suspicions even more fervently rather than be tempted to tell her. Right now, seeing the tears in her eyes, all he wanted to do was to try and make her feel better. "Sweetheart, we have our family and Sybbie. And we have each other."

"I know, and I'm so grateful. Please, don't misunderstand me, darling. It's just something I feel here." She took his hand and put it over her heart.

Now it was he who swallowed back tears. Robert so wanted to tell her his own thoughts, but was terrified of being wrong and making it even worse for her. He said the only thing he could think to say. "I'm so sorry, Cora."

She shook her head. "Don't be. Please. It's part of life, isn't it?" She smiled a tiny smile at him.

Robert nodded, then took a deep breath. "You don't know for certain, though. And that's why you should see the doctor."

"Yes. I said I would, and I will. I will telephone Dr. Clarkson tomorrow morning." She covered her mouth as a great yawn escaped it.

"Come along, my love. It's been a long day. We should get some sleep." He kissed her cheek and stood. "I'll ring for…." He stopped short. "Oh. Are you sure you don't want Mrs. Hughes or Anna?"

Cora shook her head. "Yes, Robert, I'm sure." She pointed to the cases and trunks that rested beside her armoire. "I'll get along just fine. I have for two weeks." Her smile was sad.

Kissing the top of her head, Robert crossed to his dressing room door. "I won't be long." He disappeared behind the door, ringing for Bates once inside the room.

Going into the washroom, Cora ran warm water in the sink and splashed her face. She wiped it with a towel and walked over to her dressing table, sitting down. Instead of getting ready for bed, however, she stared at her reflection, noting the lines and dark circles under her eyes, the deep furrows of concern on her brow. She had been carrying this worry, and now that she'd arrived home, she had another. She wondered how many lines losing her lady's maid would add to her face.

Robert found her like that when he entered about a half hour later in his night clothes and dressing gown. "Cora? Are you alright? I thought you would be changed."

She turned slowly. "I don't have a lady's maid," she said simply.

Perplexed, Robert came closer to her. "You said you didn't want help."

She stared at him. "That's not what I meant."

"Cora, you're beginning to worry me."

Cora appeared to shake herself, then sighed. "I'm sorry, Robert. It's been an overwhelming homecoming."

Robert stepped in front of her and took her hands. "I know. That's why we need some sleep. Come now, darling." He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I'll be your lady's maid tonight."

Smiling at him gratefully, Cora kissed his cheek. "Thank you, my love."

Walking around behind the chair, Robert took off her jewelry and carefully removed the combs from her hair, brushing it out – and leaving it down as he liked. Then he stood her up and undressed her with great tenderness, pausing at intervals to press his lips to a bare stretch of skin. He dropped her night dress over her head and buttoned the bodice. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close and kissed her with great intensity.

Robert led her over to the bed and turned off her lamp while she climbed in, then walked over to his side, turning off his lamp as well and getting under the covers. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he looked over at her, extending an arm out to her. "Come here."

Cora moved closer and put her head on his shoulder, her arm over his chest.

"Everything will be fine, Cora. We'll make sure of it." He kissed her head, sighing softly when he realized she'd already fallen asleep against him. Robert clasped his wife close to him and resigned himself to a night of very little sleep, knowing his thoughts would keep him awake for many hours.


	15. Chapter 15

5 November 1921

A faint, rosy glow of early morning light filled the bedroom when Robert woke. He looked over to where his wife was sleeping, surprised that she wasn't nestled against him as usual. Cora's nightdress was unbuttoned, and she'd thrown the bedclothes aside. Robert deduced that she must have had a hot flash sometime in the night. He pulled the sheet up and draped it over her, kissing her cheek lightly as he did, then got up and went into his dressing room.

After ringing for Bates, Robert went to the table where he kept miscellany from his pockets and spotted the letter for his wife from O'Brien. He picked it up and weighed it in his hands, sighing. Just as Bates entered the room, Robert put the envelope down again, deciding that it was not time yet to give Cora the letter. It could wait.

Edith and Tom entered the dining room as Robert was sitting down with his breakfast. He poured tea while they filled their own plates. Edith kissed her father on the cheek on her way to her own chair.

"It's so good to have you home, Papa," she said with a smile. "Did Mama sleep alright? I was worried about her."

Robert decided to prevaricate. "Yes, she slept fine. But the trip home greatly fatigued her, so she may sleep a little later than usual this morning."

Placing her teacup down and picking up her fork again, Edith nodded. "I can imagine that it did. I have some writing to finish this morning, but I thought that Mama and I might take Sybbie for a walk in the gardens later. If that's alright with you, Tom. It looks like it will be a very fine day."

Tom smiled. "Yes, I believe Sybbie and your mama both would enjoy that."

"I know Cora has missed her granddaughter. As have I." Robert finished his toast. "Alas, Tom has to get me caught up from the past two weeks. I'll have to defer my visit with Sybbie until tea time."

"Not to worry, Robert. You'll be caught up in no time at all." Tom drank the last of his tea and wiped his mouth with his serviette. "I'll go check on Sybbie, and then I'll meet you in the foyer."

Robert nodded. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes, Tom." He watched his son-in-law leave the room, then turned to his daughter. "Edith, I'd like you to help keep your mama distracted, please."

Edith's eyebrows drew together. "Is something wrong, Papa?"

Keeping his eyes on his nearly empty plate, Robert shook his head. "Just the disappearance of O'Brien. Mama isn't taking it very well."

"I didn't think she would." Edith put her own serviette down on the table and stood. "I believe a stroll in the gardens will be just the thing, then. It might distract her for a while, at least." She rested her hand on his shoulder, pressing it before removing it and walking toward the door. "I'll see you later today."

Robert dropped his fork on his plate with a sharp _clank_ once Edith had departed, not able to eat any more. He sighed deeply and stood, giving instructions to Carson to make sure Mrs. Patmore put eggs on his wife's breakfast tray. Then, hoping he would be able to put distracting thoughts to the back of his mind while discussing estate business today, he slowly made his way to the foyer to meet Tom.

* * *

The sunlight had reached into every corner and nook of the room when Cora finally woke, her stomach growling adamantly at her. She stretched and sat up, several moments passing before she remembered the conversation she and Robert had had the night before – and that O'Brien was gone. Sighing, she got up and rang the bell, shrugging into her dressing gown before sitting back up in bed.

When the door opened, it was Mrs. Hughes who stepped through with her breakfast tray, and Cora was relieved to see several boiled eggs on her plate along with the rest of her meal.

Mrs. Hughes set the tray up and stood back. "Is there anything else I can get you, my lady?"

Cora had already begun eating with great appetite. She shook her head, pausing after a bite to say, "No, thank you, Mrs. Hughes. This is perfect."

The housekeeper hesitated a moment, then added, "Would you like me to attend you this morning, Lady Grantham?"

Putting her coffee cup down, Cora turned her face to Mrs. Hughes, giving her a small smile. "I appreciate it, but I think I'll be fine on my own for a while." Seeing her housekeeper's expression, Cora shook her head. "I know it isn't done, Mrs. Hughes, a lady not having a maid, but I've been fine for two weeks, and I don't want to get used to you or Anna. I'll find someone to replace O'Brien soon - something you and I should discuss later today, perhaps." Cora buttered a piece of toast.

Mrs. Hughes inclined her head. "Very well, Lady Grantham. If there's nothing more, I'll go back to my duties."

"Certainly, Mrs. Hughes. Thank you." She continued with her breakfast, still ravenous.

After her breakfast, Cora set the tray aside and got herself ready – as she had for two weeks now. She avoided looking too closely at her reflection in the mirror, knowing what she would see. Instead, she pulled her hair back into a simple chignon and put on minimum jewelry. Then she stepped into her shoes and walked out the door, headed toward Sybbie's nursery.

When Cora entered the room, Sybbie held her arms up exultantly. "'M-mama!" she screeched from her blanket on the floor.

The grandmother's face lit up in a most radiant smile as she reached down to lift Sybbie into her embrace. "How's my big girl today? My, you've grown in two weeks, haven't you?"

Cora nearly burst into tears when Sybbie slid her still pudgy little arms around her neck and pressed her cheek to her grandmother's in a hug. "Sybbie loves 'M-mama."

"And Grandmama loves Sybbie." She held the toddler tight to her, endeavoring to control her emotions in front of the nanny.

Letting the nanny know that she was taking Sybbie downstairs with her, Cora left the nursery, whispering to Sybbie, "Grandmama has to make a telephone call, and she's very nervous. You'll keep me company, won't you? I'll feel better if you're there with me."

Sybbie looked up from wrapping her grandmother's necklace around her hands and tilted her head. "'M-papa?" she asked, and Cora smiled, knowing that her granddaughter had either not heard or not understood what her grandmother had said. Not that it mattered.

"Grandpapa is out with your papa, Sybbie. He'll be in later. He missed you very much while we were away." She kissed the little girl on the forehead, then turned to the footman attending the entryway, requesting that she not be disturbed while she made her telephone call.

Closing the foyer doors, Cora took a deep breath and clasped Sybbie closer to her as she picked up the receiver and waited for the operator to respond.

* * *

Glancing up at the clock, Edith noticed it was time for luncheon. She put her pen down on her desk and quickly skimmed over what she had written before getting up to look for her mother.

Edith found her in the drawing room. Her mama stared straight ahead, appearing to be deep in thought while Sybbie played quietly on her lap with her necklace.

"Mama?" She didn't respond, so Edith stepped closer to her and raised her voice a trifle. "Mama? Is everything alright?" She hadn't expected her mama to be quite so upset over O'Brien's departure.

Cora blinked and turned toward her daughter. She forced herself to smile. "Yes, dear. Everything is fine."

This didn't convince Edith, but she merely drew her brows together and said, "Tom told me that he and Papa had to attend to some estate business in the village, so they'll be having luncheon at the pub. As it's just us girls, and it's such a lovely day, I had Carson arrange for our meal to be set outside. It should be ready, if that's alright with you, Mama."

Her expression softening somewhat, Cora stood, shifting Sybbie so she rested on her hip. "Yes, that sounds perfect, Edith."

Sybbie let go of the necklace and held her arms out to Edith. "Ann-ee-dit hold Sybbie."

Edith laughed and took her from Cora. Then she held out her hand to her mother. "I missed you, Mama. You'll have to tell me all about Venice and Paris over luncheon."

Cora placed her hand in her daughter's and walked with her. "Yes, well, Venice is an absolutely beautiful city…."

Both women worked to distract Cora from her troubles as they ate outside in the unseasonably warm air. As they took a walk through the gardens after their meal, both thought that perhaps Cora had lost herself enough in happy stories of the holiday to forget those troubles for a while at least. Sybbie walked between them, each of them clasping one of her hands. They meandered along the paths, the two women chatting animatedly, Edith asking questions and Cora happily answering them, until Sybbie grew tired and stopped, pulled her hands away, and rubbed her eyes. "'M-mama, up!" she requested, lifting her arms.

Once her grandmother had gathered her up, Sybbie lay her head down on her shoulder with a tired sigh, resting one of her little hands on Cora's chest and closing her eyes. Cora swallowed against the lump rising in her throat and looked down at the sweet little face so close to her own.

Edith observed her mother curiously. "Mama, are you certain you're alright? You seem… wistful somehow." She wondered if her mother was thinking of Sybil or missing Mary or if it simply was O'Brien or the depressed feeling one got after coming home from a lovely holiday.

Shaking her head gently, Cora began to walk slowly down the path once more. "It's nothing to worry about, Edith. Really."

But Edith _was_ worried. She couldn't help being thus as she watched the far away look from the drawing room return to her mother's face. It was an expression that she hadn't had in a long time, one that she had when something was bothering her, something she didn't want to talk about, either because she was trying to work out a solution for herself – or it caused her too much pain.

Rather than press her mother further, however – knowing through experience that this would get her nowhere when her mama didn't want to talk about something – Edith strolled beside her in silence. She simply wanted her mother to know she was there for her.

* * *

"'M-mama! Nap done!"

Cora felt tiny hands pushing her arm, trying to shake her. She stretched and smiled at Sybbie, who sat in the middle of the bed, her hair tousled and a crease across her cheek where she'd slept hard atop the bedclothes. Her cheeks were flushed as she gazed around her grandparents' bedroom. "'M-papa?"

Sitting up, Cora rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock. It was almost tea time. "He'll probably be downstairs by now, waiting on us. Let's go find him, shall we, Sybbie?"

Cora settled Sybbie on her hip and brought her downstairs. They discovered Robert sitting at his desk in the library, scribbling away.

"'M-PAPA!" Sybbie shrieked, struggling to climb out of her grandmother's arms.

Robert let his pen fall upon the page and turned, grinning widely as Cora set Sybbie down. She ran on her toddler legs to him, overbalancing just as she got to him and falling into his outstretched arms. Scooping her up, he stood with her, laughing when she pressed a wet kiss to his cheek.

Sitting on the settee, Cora put her elbows on her knees and smiled as she watched them together. "Where's Tom, darling?"

Robert glanced up from where he was tickling Sybbie's arm to make her giggle. "He said he didn't sleep very well last night, so he went up to take a nap. He should be back down for dinner."

Cora nodded. "Edith went into the village to post something and to meet a friend for tea. She'll be back in time for dinner as well."

"So it's just the three of us then." He smiled at her and crossed over to the bell. "Sybbie, would you like to ring for tea?" he asked her, kissing her head.

Sybbie's head bounced up and down. "Yes, M-papa!" She reached out and tugged hard on the cord, squawking with delight.

Chuckling, Robert put a hand up to cover an ear and turned to look at his wife. "I'd forgotten how loud she gets when she's excited."

"Yes. She woke me in a very similar fashion after our nap this afternoon."

Robert walked to the settee with Sybbie. "Did you scream to wake up Grandmama from her nap, my little love?" he asked her. As he continued to speak to his granddaughter, he gave his wife a tender look. "She must have been very tired if she slept longer than you did."

Cora returned his tender look with one of her own, then turned her head as the tea trolley was brought in. Dismissing the maid, Cora stood to pour tea for herself and Robert and a cup of milk for Sybbie. Robert sat down on the opposite settee, balancing Sybbie on his knee before taking the tea cup his wife handed him. "Both hands, Sybbie," Robert reminded the little girl.

Once Cora had her tea, she began to drink, but she remained standing, shifting her weight from one leg to the other nervously.

Robert observed this behavior. "Cora?" He thought he knew why she was acting this way, but he wanted her to tell him herself.

Her eyes met his. "I telephoned Dr. Clarkson this morning."

"And?" Robert set his empty cup down on the trolley, his eyes fixed on hers in expectation.

"He agrees with me." She gave him a very sad smile.

Robert was momentarily distracted by Sybbie spilling milk on the carpet. Catching up her cup, he told her, "I told you two hands, little love. Now I think you've had enough." He handed her a sugary biscuit before looking back up at his wife, his forehead furrowed. "Wait – he's not going to examine you at least?"

Cora shrugged. "He didn't think it necessary. We can't know for sure yet anyway. It takes a year to be certain that the symptoms mean what we think it does."

Only just remembering that Sybbie sat on his lap happily munching on a biscuit, Robert kept outward signs of his vexation to a red face and a voice that shook ominously. "A year? Cora, you can't mean that."

"It's to be sure that the, er –" She stopped and blushed, knowing he hated to hear about these things, and not wanting to say it anyway, not with Sybbie in the room. "Well, three of the twelve are down already." Cora gave him a meaningful look, hoping he'd catch on without her having to actually say that she would have to go a year without a cycle in order to confirm Dr. Clarkson's diagnosis.

Robert stared at her uncomprehendingly for several moments before a light bulb clicked on in his head. "Oh." Then he shook his head. "But, honestly, Cora, there must be a way to know. You can't go on like you have been for a year."

Picking up a cucumber sandwich and biting into it hungrily, she shrugged her shoulders again. "There's nothing to be done. It's a natural part of the process. And will probably last for more than a year." She finished the sandwich in record speed and picked up another. "I do hope the symptoms will ease up, though. It's very disconcerting." She sighed. "Even apart from the rest."

Passing Sybbie a tea cake when she began wriggling and tugging on his sleeve, Robert followed his wife's movements with his eyes for several moments, watching her devour several more sandwiches and start on a plate of pastries. Then he said very softly, "Apart from the rest – the part that makes you sad."

Cora shifted her attention from the pastries to him again, her eyes falling on his. Her face was drawn, pale. "Yes."

Robert stood, putting Sybbie gently down on the floor and taking his wife's hands, leading her a few steps away from the tea trolley. "Cora, I want you to get a second opinion. I want a doctor to examine you thoroughly." He continued to speak softly and reached one hand up to caress her cheek.

"Robert, please," she whispered. "Can't we just start accepting this?" Her eyes entreated him.

Sighing, Robert closed his eyes briefly, making up his mind. When he opened them, Cora's eyes were still affixed to his, welling with tears. "I want you to get a second opinion because I think there is the possibility of another explanation."

Raising her eyebrows, perplexed, Cora asked, "Another explanation? I don't believe I'm ill, Robert. Dr. Clarkson would have –" She stopped when Robert began shaking his head. "But what else…?" She shook her own head, her face scrunched up in bewilderment.

Robert took a steadying breath before answering. "Cora, I know that I'm not the keenest of observers, particularly about certain things, but there are only a few other times in our life together that you've had such a big appetite – and for more than food…." He might have blushed had he not been completely serious. He continued in the same gentle voice. "…that you've been ill, that you've been moody and temperamental, that you've needed so much rest. Or that you've fidgeted and cried out in your sleep because your dreams are so vivid. Cora, don't you think… isn't it possible that you could be…?"

Cora opened and closed her mouth several times as it dawned on her what he was suggesting. "No. I mean… I… But how…." She leaned forward against him, having trouble breathing. "I need to sit."

Sliding an arm around her, Robert helped her to sit on the settee, somewhat alarmed at her reaction and wondering now if he shouldn't have kept his thoughts to himself. Her face had a look of utter dismay and had gone even paler than it had been earlier. "I'm sorry, darling. I shouldn't have said anything. Now I've upset you." He went and poured her another cup of tea, noticing that Sybbie had retired to a corner where some of her toys were kept and was quietly playing, a handful of biscuits on the carpet beside her. Bringing Cora the cup, he knelt down in front of her, clasping one of her hands, as she sipped tea with the other.

Cora hardly knew where she was. She drank tea automatically, barely felt the press of Robert's hand, and stared ahead, unseeing. Her mind churned. It was a possibility she'd not even entertained. Wasn't she too old? Hadn't it been too long since the last time? As she thought about it, though, it wasn't such a stretch. Although it was highly improbable, it wasn't outside the realm of the possible. "Robert?" she whispered, her head still in a fog.

"Yes, my love?" he asked, pressing her hand.

"Do you really think…?" She finally pulled herself together enough to gaze back at him. "Do you think I could be expecting?"

"Darling, I wouldn't have mentioned it otherwise. It's been something I've been thinking of for days now." He sighed again and cast his eyes down. "Even though I've tried not to, not being certain."

"But what about the hot flashes? I never had those before, and they're a sign of menopause."

"Meno-what?" he inquired, confused now.

"Menopause. It's the technical name for 'the change.' And I didn't have them when I was expecting before." She put her tea cup aside and placed her hand over his on her lap.

Robert rubbed his thumb over her hand. "Well, if that can't be part of pregnancy, then…"

Cora searched his eyes. "That's the thing. I don't know. It's –" She hesitated, not wanting to get either of their hopes up, but in the end knowing he probably already did. "It's possible." She closed her eyes, not wanting to see his reaction.

Extricating one of his hands, Robert touched her face. "Cora. Please look at me."

She opened her eyes.

"It's possible. And it's possible that you're not. That's why we need to have a doctor examine you." He moved his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his motions tender.

"Robert? What if…?" She gulped.

"Shhh, sweetheart. Let's simply try to think of someone to examine you, make an appointment, and go from there. There's no other way to know." He raised her hands to his lips and kissed them each in turn.

Cora nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a little figure peeking around the edge of the settee. Turning, she smiled at her granddaughter. "Sybbie, we didn't mean to leave you alone so long." She took one of her hands gently from her husband's and beckoned the girl over. "Come here, darling. Come sit with Grandmama."

Standing up, Robert passed his hand briefly over Cora's cheek before he walked over to the drinks cabinet. He needed something stronger than tea. Cora lifted Sybbie onto her lap, where the girl burrowed her head into her grandmother's chest. "What's the matter, my little love?" she asked.

Sybbie looked up. "'M-mama sick?" She seemed about to cry.

Cora cuddled her closer. "No, Sybbie. Grandmama isn't sick. She just needs to see a doctor about something." Glancing up at Robert, she remarked, "We need to be more careful what we say around her. She's soaking everything up like a sponge."

Passing a hand over his eyes, Robert sat across from them on the other settee with a Scotch.

"'M-mama, Sybbie sick." Sybbie clutched her stomach, her face screwed up in obvious pain.

"Baby, what's the matter?" Cora put a hand to her forehead, but she didn't feel warm. "Your tummy hurts?"

Robert took a drink of Scotch, then interrupted. "I would say it did." He pointed to the tea trolley, where there were several empty trays. "Whilst we weren't watching her, she ate all the biscuits and the rest of the tea cakes."

* * *

Cora looked up as Robert entered the bedroom in his dressing gown. She had been attempting to concentrate on her book but, unable to, was relieved that he'd joined her so quickly. She put her book away in the bedside table drawer while Robert sat on the chair at the end of the bed.

"How was Sybbie?" he asked, resting his elbows on his knees.

"She was sleeping when Tom and I went to check on her. The peppermint and soda water seemed to calm her stomach enough for her to sleep." Cora smiled. "I think she might learn to go easy on the sweets at tea time now."

Robert nodded and smiled back at his wife. After they'd made sure Sybbie would be alright, it was already time to dress for dinner. Dinner itself was quiet, everyone seeming lost in their own thoughts. Now was the first time Robert and Cora had been alone since tea. Neither appeared keen to bring up the subject they'd been discussing then.

So Robert cleared his throat and brought up something different. "I've been thinking about someone we could hire."

Cora's eyebrows drew together, thinking he wouldn't want to talk about it. "You mean to examine me? I have too."

"Er, no. That's not what I meant." Robert sat up straighter in the chair. "You know of someone?"

"Yes. Do you remember Dr. Ryder? He's that specialist in London," Cora said, at the same time wondering what Robert had meant.

"Oh, yes. I do remember. That's a good idea, Cora." He already felt a trifle more at ease, knowing Dr. Ryder was someone she trusted and, therefore, he could trust as well. "I will telephone him tomorrow and make an appointment for you. As soon as he can see you." He rested his eyes on hers, his hopes for how it might turn out and how much he was trying to suppress them writ plainly on his face.

Cora gazed at him, her expression soft and her head tilted slightly, in an effort to tell him with her look that whatever happened, she would be alright. They would both be alright. Then she held her hand out to him. Robert got up and sat on the side of the bed, placing his hand in hers.

"What were you going to tell me? Before?" She hoped the change of subject would signal an end to any more discussion of doctors or possibilities – at least for tonight. They both knew there was nothing more to say. Not until they were certain what was happening to her.

Robert's face screwed up in momentary confusion. Then it cleared. "Right, yes. I thought of someone we could hire. As your lady's maid."

Cora sighed. "I meant to discuss that with Mrs. Hughes today, and I never got the chance. To be honest, I'm not even sure I want a lady's maid. They always leave."

"I know you're upset, darling, but you need a maid. And I'm not sure it's fair to say they always leave. O'Brien was here for over fifteen years. And Perkins was here for ten before that." He pressed her hand sympathetically.

"I still don't understand why O'Brien would leave." Cora looked down sadly. "There were no signs; I had no warning. I'm so disappointed, Robert."

Sighing, he thought of the letter and wondered if it was the right time to give it to her. "I don't know, Cora. But I know of someone who might be perfect. I won't tell you yet, however. I don't want you to get your hopes up, just in case it doesn't work out."

The enigmatic look on his face set Cora wondering what he could be going on about. But instead of asking him to explain, she merely shook her head and grinned at him. "You're determined to have someone to look after me, aren't you?"

"Well, as I can't be here all the time…." He gave her a cheeky grin and lifted her hand to kiss it. "Now, I have something that you will enjoy, I think."

Cora laughed as Robert stood, thinking he was about to take off his dressing gown. "Well, that's certainly a different way of saying that." She desperately wanted something to take her mind off of melancholy and uncertain things.

Robert paused, his cheeks reddening, his mouth open in shock. "Why, Cora Crawley! That's not what I meant at all!" He reached into his dressing gown pocket to retrieve an envelope, passing it to her. He walked around the bed, unable to suppress a grin.

"Mary's letter!" Cora tore into the envelope as Robert slipped beneath the bedclothes beside her.

"I thought you could read it aloud. I was going to give it to you at tea, but we became somewhat distracted." He leaned against the pillows, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Now, darling. What does Mary have to say?"

Nestling more comfortably into the crook of his arm, Cora unfolded the thick letter and began to read. Soon enough, Mary had them both laughing and smiling as she related their experiences in Newport and her grandmama's shenanigans. Her description of one event in particular had them both in such stitches that they had to take turns reading the letter aloud. She related what happened at a grand party that Martha threw in their honor: Matthew was cornered most of the evening by a group of lawyers who wanted to pick his brain about British law. Mary's dance card was completely full, and she had men cutting in constantly, once to a point that two of the men had to be ushered out of the house before they came to fisticuffs. They were still hurling insults at one another – some of which Mary had never heard before, being American colloquialisms of which she was unfamiliar and which made her chuckle – as footmen dragged them out. But the most amusing incident, at least in Mary's telling, was the dessert after supper. The lemon tart was so, well, _tart_, that one guest had exclaimed, "Good God!" upon trying it. Mary and Matthew had dissolved in a fit of laughing so hard that they were in tears and almost fell out of their chairs. In fact, Martha was the only person who could finish the dessert and appeared unaware that no one else was eating theirs.

After finishing the letter, Cora tucked it back in the envelope and placed it on her bedside table. She leaned back against her husband again, running a hand along his arm. "They seem to be having a wonderful time, Robert."

"Yes, they do. I'm happy that they are. They've needed a long holiday like this." He paused, playing with the ends of Cora's hair. "Like we did."

Cora sat up and turned to look at him. "Robert, I know I wasn't very good company on our trip home yesterday. But I want you to know that I loved our holiday." Looking down, she wove her fingers through his. "And I love you, very much." She took a deep breath, lifting her eyes to his again. "And I always will, whatever happens next."

Robert cupped her cheek with his other hand. "Sweetheart, yesterday was fine. I could tell that something was not right, that you needed some silence and support. I was only happy to give what I could."

"It was just what I needed," she whispered. She moved closer to him, rubbing her lips very lightly against his.

He closed his eyes and opened his mouth just slightly, otherwise remaining motionless as she did this, uncertain what she might want or how she felt, letting himself enjoy the sensations her attentions gave him. In another moment she pressed her lips to his with more intention, lifting his hand and, untwining their fingers, put it over her breast.

Robert drew his head back, opening his eyes. "Are you sure?" he whispered, searching her face, her eyes.

"Please, Robert," she said in a soft voice, still holding his hand against her. "I need something certain. I need…." Her words trailed off.

Cora didn't have to say it. He knew. She wanted him to comfort her, to wrap his arms around her and help her lose herself so she wouldn't have to think about everything else. He knew because he wanted that as well. Giving her a little nod of understanding, he leaned forward to kiss her tenderly, sliding his other arm around her waist and pulling her closer, gently kneading her breast through her night dress, causing her to sigh against his lips.

Feeling her heart beginning to race in that wonderfully familiar way, Cora loosened the tie on Robert's dressing gown and opened it, running her hands over the silky material of his night shirt, her fingers lingering over his nipples. She couldn't help chuckling low in her throat at his involuntary gasps.

Robert continued to kiss her, biting her bottom lip lightly, teasingly, sliding his tongue into her mouth as he twisted his fingers into her hair. Removing his other hand from her breast, he trailed his hand along her side, down over her hip and thigh until he reached the hem of her night dress. His fingers grazed her calf as he slipped them beneath the hem, raising the fabric slowly higher as his hand traveled over her skin. Reaching her bottom, he squeezed it gently. He broke the kiss and grinned at her. "I think someone planned ahead, didn't she?" He teased, shifting them so he could put both hands over her bare bottom, pulling her onto his lap.

"Oh, in case I had, say, a hot flash in the night again." She returned his grin, going back to the buttons on his night shirt.

"Right," he said, skeptically, capturing her lips again and kneading her bottom under her night dress.

Cora got Robert to keep his hands away from her just long enough to divest him of his dressing gown, flinging it onto the floor. His lips moved from hers to suck the delicate skin of her neck and collar bone, very gently, his hands traversing over the rest of her beneath her gown, until she was panting and fidgeting against him.

"Robert," Cora breathed, sliding her hand beneath the waistband of his undergarments to wrap her hand around his arousal. He groaned deeply and put his arms around her waist, flipping her onto her back. They both tore at his night clothes, throwing them into the air. He tugged her night dress over her head, and it sailed over the side of the bed to join all his garments on the floor.

Settling himself over her, Robert brushed her dark tresses back from her face with one hand, his other already under the small of her back. They exchanged tender looks, silent messages of love passing between them as Cora reached up to place her arms around his neck, her fingers in his hair, and Robert ran his hand along the insides of her thighs, waiting for her to indicate she was ready for him.

Cora gently drew his head down so his forehead rested on hers. "Please, darling, I need you."

Lifting her hips, Robert complied with her request, kissing her mouth tenderly as he started to move deliberately against her. Once he'd established a mutually pleasurable cadence, he slid his other arm beneath her, cradling her close to his chest. Soon they were too out of breath to continue kissing, and Robert nuzzled his face into Cora's neck, his cries of pleasure echoing hers. In between these, she thought she heard him murmur something that sounded like "my love" repeatedly against her throat, and she hummed in elation at this, at the feel of his arms around her, at his increasingly frenzied motion between her thighs.

Just when Robert thought he might not be able to last any longer, Cora suddenly arched her hips up and made a decidedly inhuman noise. Robert moaned while she contracted around him, thrusting into her one more time just as these contractions were subsiding. Keeping her tightly to himself, he rolled them over onto their sides, moving his head to look at her, taking deep breaths and smiling.

Cora smiled at him too, still panting. Not wanting to spoil the moment with words or even thoughts, she reached an arm down and twitched the sheet up over them, then slid her arm around his waist. After sharing a tender kiss, Cora nestled her head upon Robert's shoulder and closed her eyes. Robert pressed his lips to her hair, then hummed softly until she fell asleep. Only then did he allow himself to follow her into the land of slumber.


	16. Chapter 16

6 November 1921

Cora stretched out her limbs in the steaming bath water, drawing lazy circles over her skin with the soapy sponge. She suppressed a yawn, wondering how she could still be so exhausted, since she didn't wake until late morning, and she had no recollection of waking at any time during the night. Of course, she had been ill as soon as she'd sat up in bed, and the queasy feeling remained despite the breakfast of eggs and toast. Eating eggs had helped her over the past two weeks, but didn't seem to be working the same magic today.

Exhaustion and the traces of sickness impelled Cora to ask Mrs. Hughes to send Anna up to help her with her bath. In truth, she wasn't sure she wanted to be completely alone with her thoughts.

With her usual quiet efficiency, Anna moved between the washroom and bedroom, setting the armoire and dressing table to rights, gathering things for the laundry, and placing towels and clothes within easy reach of her ladyship. Anna's steady yet unobtrusive presence and soft smile had a calming effect on Cora, for which Cora felt grateful. Because her nerves were decidedly jangled as she endeavored to keep unwelcome thoughts, hopes that could be so easily shattered, at bay.

Her mind fought against her attempts to shove these musings aside, and she had to shake herself out of several daydreams. The last time she even jerked her hand away from where she had absentmindedly rested it over her abdomen, as if welcoming a new life growing there. Cora stared at her hand, like it were on fire. As it was, her skin was puckered from lingering in the water so long. Letting go of the sponge she held, Cora traced the lines on her palm, remembering the first night she and Robert had spent on the Orient Express over a fortnight ago. She smiled, recalling how she'd noted that their heartlines were nearly the same.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Everything would be alright.

* * *

Robert caught his granddaughter up in his arms, hugging her tightly and kissing her cheek before setting her down again.

"'M-papa!" Sybbie tugged at her grandfather's trousers. Robert looked down at her with a smile.

"Yes, little love?" He knelt in front of her.

Sybbie put her hand on his cheek, saying, "Play?" With her other hand she pointed to the dolls and stuffed toys piled in a corner of her nursery.

Robert suspected that Sybbie knew exactly what she was doing when she touched her grandpapa's cheek in that way. He could never say no to her when she did that.

Dismissing the nanny, Robert made certain the woman had gone down the hallway and into her own room before pushing the door nearly shut and joining Sybbie on the floor. Handing him a toy, she asked, "Papa?"

Shaking his head, her grandfather sighed. "Papa is asleep. He's very tired, Sybbie."

"Papa nap time," she stated matter-of-factly, nodding sagely and picking up a toy, apparently satisfied with this response. She understood nap times.

Robert was relieved that she didn't understand why her papa needed an occasional morning off to catch up on sleep. He wasn't supposed to know, but Cora had told him, to head off any sort of frustration at Tom on Robert's part, frustration that might lead to an embarrassing and distressing confrontation. Because Tom had nightmares about the night Sybil died. They didn't plague him every night, or even every week, but when he had them, they were fierce and unrelenting, allowing him no undisturbed sleep whatsoever.

At first, before Cora told him, Tom's intermittent need for a morning to rest _had_ annoyed Robert, in fact. Tom would arrive at breakfast with purple shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, his skin ashen and his expression troubled, pleading an apocryphal ailment and asking if he and Robert could postpone estate business until the afternoon. But now Robert knew why, he merely nodded on those mornings. And the knowledge that Tom had relived Sybil's passing all night always distressed Robert. So he would seek Sybbie out, the little girl's sweetness acting as a balm applied to the still fresh scar left on Robert's heart at the loss of her mother.

Robert suspected that Tom wasn't the only one who'd had nightmares regarding Sybil the previous night, however. Cora had thrashed about in an uncommonly violent manner several times throughout the night, and each time the most intelligible of her outcries were the words "no" and "Sybil." Clutching her to his chest and murmuring reassuringly in her ear, Robert stilled her after each of these nocturnal disturbances, stroking her hair until she was completely calm and sleeping peacefully. He didn't think she'd actually woken at any point during the night, but he believed that she would be sleeping late again today. Robert would rather have slept later than usual himself, his own sleep having been interrupted so many times, but he knew that he should reestablish his normal routine. Furthermore, he'd already settled on begging an hour from Tom to attend to other pressing business before going out on the estate. He hadn't counted on his son-in-law also having a restless night, but it actually suited his purposes very well.

Thus, instead of going upstairs to Sybbie's nursery right away, as he normally would on these mornings, Robert telephoned Dr. Ryder to make an appointment for Cora. He was pleasantly surprised when the doctor informed him that if they could make it to London the next day, he had time to see Lady Grantham at one o'clock. He hadn't dared hope they could go so soon, and he grabbed the chance gratefully, relieved.

After making the appointment, Robert rang for Mrs. Hughes. He surprised her somewhat by asking her opinion about the candidate he'd thought of for the lady's maid position, a woman Mrs. Hughes knew fairly well herself. She smiled at his request that she get the address for him immediately. Whatever was happening to his wife, he wanted someone attending her as soon as possible. And if it was someone they already knew and trusted, all the better.

Robert gave a footman the letter to put in the afternoon post. Only then did he make his way upstairs to see his granddaughter. And now, sitting on the floor of her nursery, immersed in his own thoughts, he didn't realize Sybbie had stood up beside him and was stamping her foot, reminding him greatly of Mary when she was a child. Her little face had grown red. "'M-papa!" she exclaimed in vexation. "Play!"

Clearing his throat, he turned his attention to her once more. "I do apologize, my little love. Grandpapa did not sleep well either. But I came in here to spend time with you, Sybbie, and that is what I shall do." Kissing her on the cheek, he picked up the doll he'd dropped during his brown study and dedicated his full concentration to making her smile.

* * *

"Anna?" Cora called from the washroom, a towel wrapped around her.

Anna appeared in the doorway. "Yes, your ladyship?"

"I – I would like some help selecting a dress. I have –" Cora took a deep breath. "My dresses aren't all fitting as well as they were, and I'm having some difficulties. Also, might you do something with my hair? I can only do simple styles, and, to be honest, I might need something more flattering to go with the dark circles beneath my eyes." She gave Anna a weary smile.

"I'll be happy to help, my lady." Anna left Cora to dry herself off and put on undergarments, returning with a green dress that had been left in the back of Cora's armoire for over a year.

Cora's eyes went wide. "I'd forgotten I had that, Anna. I think that will be perfect, actually."

Anna helped Cora with the fastenings. The dress had resided in the back of the closet since about a month after Sybil's funeral; she'd lost so much weight that it was far too big for her. Eventually – after things had been resolved between them – Cora thought it a shame she could no longer wear it, as it had been one of Robert's favorites. He said it always reminded him of a certain holiday to London their first year of marriage and a green scarf she'd wrapped around herself to entice him….

Sitting at her dressing table, Cora looked at her reflection. The memory of how much Robert enjoyed the dress made her grin and put color in her cheeks. But she still appeared pinched and tired, the dark patches under her eyes all too apparent, the eyes themselves dull with fatigue. Sighing, she applied some cosmetics and her favorite perfume while Anna worked on her hair. She had to admit that Anna was every bit as good as O'Brien at dressing hair, and, again, her warm smile had a calming effect.

Digging her emerald scarab earrings out of her jewelry box, Cora finally dismissed Anna – with many thanks.

As Cora approached the nursery door, she heard voices. She stopped just outside, putting an eye to the gap between door and frame. Nearly bursting into laughter, Cora covered her mouth quickly and stayed as still and quiet as possible.

"'But, Granny, I want a pony!'" Robert held up a doll and spoke the words in a high voice. Then, in an exaggerated impersonation of his mother, he held up a different doll in a purple dress, and said, "'Sybil Crawley! You are a little lady and ladies should behave!'" Putting down the Violet doll, he picked up another doll in a blue dress. "'Mama! If Sybil wants to learn to ride a pony, then she shall.'" Robert's American accent was dreadful, but he seemed to catch the essence of his wife's tones in defending her daughter.

Sybbie clapped her hands together and crowed in absolute delight.

"Another time," Robert said, in his own voice, "the beautiful Princess Sybil wanted something shocking." He put down the other dolls and lifted up Sybbie's favorite doll, which he evidently was using to represent her mother. "'I want to participate in politics. And I want to _wear pants_.' Everyone looked at Princess Sybil like she was mad. But when she came into the room wearing the pants…" Robert held up two dolls in each hand and said, "…all her family were amazed at her audacity and, yes, were very appalled. But they loved her so much that they eventually realized that it was part of who she was." He set these dolls down and picked up a different one, a male doll, one wearing a chauffeur's cap – sent by one of Tom's relatives as a sort of joke, but which Sybbie loved. "And no one saw it sooner than Branson."

"PAPA!" Sybbie shrieked happily.

Cora felt tears streaking her face, wondering now why she even bothered with the cosmetics, seeing as she couldn't stop herself from being emotional at the drop of a hat.

Robert nodded. "Yes, Sybbie. Your papa. Grandpapa has not always been very nice to Papa, but both of us love you very much. And we both loved Princess Sybil too." He took up the Sybil doll once more, speaking in that high-pitched way again. "'And I love my little Sybbie, and I always will.'"

As Sybbie reached out and wrapped her arms around the Sybil and Tom dolls, Robert looked up, thinking he heard a noise at the door. Cora saw his eyes bright with tears, and she entered the room quietly, closing the door behind her, leaning back against it. She and Robert shared a long, loving gaze before Sybbie realized that she and Grandpapa weren't alone anymore.

"'M-mama! 'M-papa play wif Sybbie!" She dropped the dolls and hurried over to her grandmother on stocky legs, lifting her arms.

Cora picked her up and cuddled her close, her eyes fixed on her husband's across the nursery, a soft smile on her face. He slowly stood, grimacing because he wasn't used to sitting on the floor (it was something he only ever did at Sybbie's request, and only in her nursery). He crossed over to the pair and kissed Cora on the lips, touching her arm.

"You look beautiful today," he remarked, smiling at her. He could plainly see that she was exhausted, and her skin was much paler than usual, but her hair was dressed very prettily, she smelled divine – of his favorite perfume – and she wore his favorite shade of green. "You have on the earrings I got you," he said in a low voice.

Blushing at his tone, she lowered her eyes. "Yes. I haven't worn them in a while. And they match the dress." Cora rubbed Sybbie's back. The girl sighed happily, content to rest her head on her grandmama's shoulder and watch her grandpapa.

"You look radiant." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his wife's cheek.

"Now you're just trying to flatter me," she said, her lips twitching in amusement.

"Never," he said, in all sincerity.

Cora walked over to the rocking chair and sat in it, continuing to cradle Sybbie in her arms. Robert took the chair close by them, resting a hand on Cora's knee.

"I telephoned Dr. Ryder. He had an appointment for tomorrow, so I had him put you down for it. It's at one o'clock, so we should have no difficulty getting there in time if we catch the eight o'clock train from Downton Station."

"We'll need to have an early night then, Robert. I hate to admit it, but I'm unaccountably exhausted." She smiled, hoping that he wouldn't be too concerned about this.

To her surprise, he merely nodded his head. "You didn't have an easy night's sleep."

Furrowing her brow, Cora gaped at him. "What do you mean?"

Robert squeezed her knee gently. "I didn't think you'd actually woken from any of them, but I woke several times in the night. You were having nightmares. Of the same nature as Tom's, from what I could tell." His eyes softened even more as he spoke.

"Oh." She rubbed a hand over Sybbie's hair. "I didn't realize. But perhaps that explains the bruise on my leg?" Cora had seen it while in the bath and been absolutely baffled about where it had come from.

"Er – yes, I think it does. There was one time you were kicking again. Like last week in Venice. Only this time your shin hit my knee." Robert chuckled gently. "I can imagine that it left a bruise. My poor sweetheart," he added in a low voice.

Cora sighed. "I'm sorry I was kicking out again."

Robert shook his head. "Darling, you were asleep. You couldn't have known. I was just glad I could help calm you down. I wasn't sure I'd be able to." He fixed her with a loving look.

She smiled. "So am I. I can't imagine how much more tired I would be otherwise." She took her hand from Sybbie's back and held it out to him, smiling wider when he took it in his own and bent his head to kiss the back of it.

Robert's eyes searched hers and, for a moment at least, he forgot everything else but how very much he loved her and wanted to keep her safe and happy.

"I think she's asleep." Cora pressed his hand. "We should put her in her cot."

Taking Sybbie from his wife, Robert put her into her bed and covered her with a blanket. He slid his arm around Cora's shoulders as they looked down at their granddaughter.

"I liked your story about Princess Sybil," Cora whispered.

"She needs to know who her mother was. What a loving, spirited young woman she was." Robert's voice trembled.

"She will. We'll make certain of it, Robert." She looked up at him, tears glistening on her lashes.

Robert held her gaze for several moments before responding, "Yes. We will."

* * *

After luncheon, Robert and Tom retired to the library to work, Edith took Sybbie out for a walk in the gardens, and Cora went up to her bedroom to rest.

Just before they were to reconvene for tea, Cora was ill for the second time that day. She did her best to freshen up before going downstairs, but there was no hiding the exhaustion written plainly on her features.

Everyone looked up at her when she entered the drawing room. Robert's eyes met hers, concern furrowing his brow. Tom and Edith both noticed her pallor, but said nothing, not wanting to upset her or make her feel self-conscious, believing it had to do with O'Brien.

The only one who wasn't worried about Cora's appearance was Sybbie. She met her grandmother as she approached the settee, holding up a biscuit. "'M-mama, for you!"

Cora sat down, pulling Sybbie up onto her lap and shaking her head. "Thank you, Sybbie, but Grandmama isn't hungry."

Robert lifted his head from his cup, his expression questioning. Edith brought her mother some tea and then sat beside her. Tom put his own cup down and held out his arms. "Sybbie, come here to Papa, and let your grandmother drink her tea."

The biscuit fell upon the settee as Sybbie threw her arms around Cora's neck. Cora did her best to steady her tea cup, her arm jostled by the sudden movement. "No! Sybbie want 'M-mama!"

Cora patted Sybbie's back and gave Tom a warm smile. "It's alright, Tom. I don't mind holding her."

Tom smiled in return and retrieved his tea cup from the table beside his chair. "Well, if you're sure."

"Of course I am," she said. Then she whispered to Sybbie, "Little darling, you can stay. But Grandmama can't drink her tea with your arms around her neck."

Sybbie released her grip on Cora's neck and sat with her head against her grandmother's chest instead, playing with her necklace, as was her habit.

Robert fidgeted in his chair, worried about his wife, about the fact that she looked even more tired after having had an afternoon rest. He knew he would have to wait to ask her until they were alone before dinner, but he couldn't stop worrying or watching her all during tea.

Once they finally got upstairs, Robert stood in front of Cora and gently took her face in his hands. "Darling," he said tenderly, running his thumbs along her cheekbones, "I'm beginning to wonder if we were wrong about your being ill."

Cora reached up and clasped his hands in hers, bringing them down to settle on her chest, where he could feel her heart beating. "I don't think I am, but we'll know soon enough, won't we?" He nodded, and she continued, "I'm just tired, and I've been sick twice today –"

"Twice? Cora, why didn't you tell me?" Knowing she had been sick only added to his concern.

"I didn't think to this morning, and the second time was right before tea. I didn't want to worry Edith or Tom."

Robert nodded again. "I understand. I will be glad to know once and for all what is ailing you, my love." He lifted her hands and kissed them.

"My dear, we should get dressed," she prompted in a soft voice a few moments later. For, still grasping her hands in his, he had turned one of her arms in order to gain access to the delicate skin of the underside of her wrist and forearm, and now his lips leisurely traversed the smooth alabaster surface. She knew this could easily turn into a postponement of dinner if she let him continue. Most nights this would not be a matter of concern, but the Dowager Countess had invited herself to dine with them.

Pausing, he lifted his eyes to her face. Seeing her expression and the blatant fatigue clearly visible there, the words he'd been about to speak – "Perhaps first we could get undressed" – died upon his tongue. Pressing one last kiss to her palm, he stood in front of her again and caressed her cheeks before starting toward his dressing room door. "Oh." He remembered something just as he put his hand on the door knob. "I sent an inquiry about a lady's maid today."

Cora already sat at her dressing table, removing her necklace and earrings. She sighed. "I'm still so disappointed in O'Brien. To vanish, without so much as an explanation. You'd think after seventeen years, she would at least have the courtesy to tell me something – anything." She shook her head and sighed again, bowing her head sadly.

Robert turned away from her to hide the guilty look he knew was now on his face. Without another word, he opened the door to his dressing room and went inside.

Hearing the door open, Cora raised her head. "Robert?"

He returned seconds later, crossing the room and placing an envelope in front of her on the dressing table.

"What's this?" she asked, looking up at him curiously.

Taking a breath, he pointed to the envelope. "That's the letter that O'Brien left for you with Mrs. Hughes. She gave it to me the night we arrived home."

Cora's curiosity quickly transformed into an expression of disbelief. "Robert, you've had this for two days, and you kept it from me? Knowing how upset I've been?"

Guilt and remorse painted Robert's face red. His voice was both sympathetic and protective. "I kept it until now precisely _because_ you've been upset. I didn't want to make things worse. Especially with – with the other uncertainty." He stammered as he saw her disbelief change into anger.

"You had no right to keep this letter from me. None." Cora's voice became sharp and her eyes narrowed. "You should have given it to me as soon as Mrs. Hughes gave it to you. And she should have given it directly to me, but that is beside the point."

"Cora, I'm sorry. You're right. Now I see I should have given it to you. But I was worried about how you would react." He stood there with his hands facing out by his sides, feeling a trifle helpless in the face of her obvious vexation with him.

"Well. Now on top of whatever reaction I'll have to what she has to say, I am also thoroughly put out with you." She turned her head back to the mirror and began taking the pins out of her hair. Without looking at him, she said emphatically, "You can go into the other room at any time, Robert."

Realizing that he had been summarily dismissed, he suppressed a sigh and hung his head as he went back to his dressing room. Stopping there, he looked at her. "I _am_ sorry, Cora."

Cora continued to brush her hair, pretending not to hear him. Once she heard the door shut, she picked up the letter and went over to her chaise. Taking a deep breath, she opened the envelope.

* * *

It was all Robert could do not to rush Bates through the change into dinner attire. As soon as Bates had left, Robert knocked on the dividing door.

"Cora, are you ready to go down?" Hearing no reply, he repeated, "Cora?"

Still hearing nothing, he cautiously opened the door. Cora didn't look up from where she was sitting on the chaise, her legs curled under her, the letter open on her lap, her face in profile and her eyes fixed on a point far in the distance. Her hair hung loose, and she hadn't gotten dressed for dinner.

Robert went over and knelt by the chaise. "Cora, darling, we'll be late to dinner. You know how Mama complains." He smiled at her tentatively.

"I'm not going down to dinner," she said in a small voice, not even turning her head to look at him. "I'm not hungry."

"Sweetheart, you have to eat something. You haven't had anything since luncheon." He took her hand in his, disappointed that it remained lifeless.

She shook her head slightly, repeating, "I'm not hungry."

"Cora, I know you're angry with me –"

Finally, she moved her head to look at him. "No. Yes, I am. But – she's not coming back. She's never coming back. I thought she might, but she isn't." Picking up the letter, she held it out to him.

Letting go of her hand, Robert stood to read the letter.

_Dear Lady Grantham,  
First of all, I know you will be surprised at my disappearance, and most likely upset and anxious. For this I do apologise, as it grieves me to know I leave you this way, my lady._

_However, I find I cannot continue at Downton with the weight of guilt I carry. Of what I am guilty I cannot tell you, but it was the consequence of a severe misunderstanding on my part, and something that pains me every day of my life. The blame is mine, and mine alone. Being at Downton, attending your ladyship – it only intensifies the pain I carry with every passing day._

_I could not leave before, though, not without having done penance for my wrong doing. I believe I can now, having nursed your ladyship through the Spanish flu, being there for whatever you needed at the death of Lady Sybil, and all the daily duties in my charge, which I have carried out gladly. Now that my lady is happy and well, and things have been going the way they have, I feel I can go. Not completely absolved, but knowing that your ladyship will be better off without me._

_Again I realise, Lady Grantham, that you will most likely be disappointed at my leaving without telling you in person. Please understand that I could not bear to watch – again – my actions break your heart; the mere rumour of my leaving last year appeared to do so, and that was difficult enough. I am a coward, and I will live with that, my lady, on top of my guilt. It will be my burden to bear._

Here Robert noticed that the writing that began strong became shakier, as if the hand penning the words could not quite keep steady.

_Know that I would never hurt you willingly, and I have never let anyone else hurt you where I could prevent it. I have been your fiercest protector downstairs, and it has been my honour and self-sworn duty. I wish you every happiness, my lady, every good thing that has been denied you in the past, even if I know that many of them may be impossible now._

_May you find a lady's maid worthy of your trust, your ladyship. To be honest, I never was._

_My deepest regards and humblest apologies,_

_Sarah O'Brien_

Robert looked up from the letter, completely mystified. "Cora, what on earth is she talking about?"

Cora shrugged. She had resumed her far-away gaze.

"This letter is infuriatingly enigmatic. What guilt? What could she have done to make her write this way?" Robert's brows drew together in bewilderment.

"I don't know," she answered quietly. "I don't know what I'll do without her."

Robert passed his hand over his face, suddenly tired. Leaving the letter on her dressing table, he walked back over to the chaise, kneeling in front of her once more, taking her hand. "You'll go on. And you'll be fine."

Her face remained impassive. "Go on downstairs, Robert. Your mother is waiting." Her voice was hollow.

Robert wanted nothing more than to take his wife into his arms and hold her, to make everything alright again. But he knew she was too far away right now. Sighing, he stood again. "I'll send up a tray, darling. You really should eat something."

Cora stared straight ahead, unblinking. Bending down to kiss her forehead, Robert then left the room, shaken by her reaction to O'Brien's letter.

* * *

"Robert, either she is ill or she isn't. Which is it?" Violet's voice pierced across the dinner table.

Putting his fork down with a resounding _clink_ upon his plate, Robert responded, "Mama, please, can we _not_ do this tonight? I am not feeling completely well myself."

Edith endeavored to come to her father's rescue. "Granny, you know what it's like to lose a lady's maid. Didn't that one you liked best leave to get married?"

Violet put another bite of roast in her mouth and chewed it thoroughly before answering, "Yes, she did. But I don't recall pouting about it in my bedroom when there was company for dinner." She lifted her wine glass to drink. "These things happen. C'est la vie. You pick up and move on."

"Mama, please, for once, give Cora some slack. She hasn't been feeling well for some days now."

Edith's head snapped up to look at her father. "Papa, what do you mean?"

Robert realized that in his need to defend his wife – not to mention his own growing fatigue – he'd let on more than he'd meant to. "It's nothing, Edith. Don't worry about it."

It was the second time in two days that one of her parents had told her not to worry about her mother. "Papa, please. If something is wrong with Mama…."

Violet looked from one to the other, it dawning on her that not all was as it seemed with her son and daughter-in-law. "Yes, Robert, do tell."

Pushing his plate back in exasperation at his own slip, Robert's eyes moved from Tom, who appeared embarrassed to be caught in a discussion that so obviously centered on a family matter, to Edith, whose concern showed clearly in her brown eyes and clouded brow, and then to his mother, who stared at him with open curiosity. "Look, I don't know what is wrong with Cora. And neither does she. I am taking her to a doctor in London tomorrow, and we hope to find out then. That's all I have to say on the matter." He placed his hands atop one another on the table in front of them and kept his eyes there, unwilling to say another word.

Edith looked close to tears. "Papa, why didn't you say anything? Is she sick?"

Robert fixed his eyes on his daughter. If anyone in the room deserved to know the truth, it was her. "We – we don't think so, my dear." He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "We'll know more tomorrow. We didn't want to worry anyone."

Violet made a noise that sounded remarkably like a "humph." "Fine way to go about it," she mumbled.

* * *

After dinner, Robert went wearily up to his dressing room and remained completely silent while Bates helped him out of his dinner attire and into his night clothes. Afraid of getting sent back into his dressing room, he slipped quietly into the bedroom after dismissing his valet.

With great relief, he noted that the dinner tray that sat on the table by the bedroom door was empty. She had at least eaten something.

Robert quickly surveyed the room. The letter from O'Brien remained where he'd left it on Cora's dressing table. She'd neatly folded the green dress across a chair, and she was in a night dress, in bed, his lamp left on for him. He took this as a good sign. If she'd meant him to sleep in his dressing room, she would have left the room dark.

Of course, she was also on her right side, all the way over on the edge of her side of the bed. Robert sighed. He came close to her, looking down at her face, her closed eyes. He wasn't sure if she was asleep or merely pretending she didn't realize he'd entered the room. Taking off his dressing gown, he went around to his side of the bed and climbed in, turning the lamp off.

Hopeful that she'd gotten over her pique with him for keeping O'Brien's letter from her, Robert moved to her side of the bed and, tentatively, spooned against her.

"Robert," she whispered, startling him a trifle. "Please don't. I'm not happy with you right now." His wife had stiffened in his arms.

"Cora, please," he pleaded gently. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to make things worse."

"Well, you did," she stated, matter-of-factly.

He tried pressing a soft kiss on her neck. She pulled away.

"Robert, you can't always kiss it and make it better." She sounded sad and empty. "I haven't said that you have to sleep in your dressing room, but you're sorely tempting me right now."

Fighting back tears – something he hadn't done for a long time – he withdrew his arms from her and crept over to his side of the bed. "I really am sorry, Cora," he whispered into the dark of their bedroom. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I love you more than I can say."

Cora curled tighter around herself. "Goodnight, Robert," she choked out.

It was a long time before either managed to get to sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

7 November 1921

Darkness still filled the room when Robert woke. He reached over and turned on his lamp to see the time. Ten after five. He switched the lamp back off and lay down again, his eyes adjusting to the pre-dawn grey. Robert knew he would need to wake Cora in a little while so they had enough time to dress and catch the eight o'clock train to London. He turned his head to look at her.

Cora remained curled up on her side of the bed, facing away from him. He stared at her for a while, until what had been simply shapes in various hues of charcoal and sable – shapes he knew so well – became clear as the dawn light began to dilute the darkness. He caught his breath as he realized anew that the familiar jut of her hip and dip of her waist, the curve of her shoulder and graceful arc of her neck, although still familiar, truly had taken on a new roundness. There was no time in their lives that Cora's figure had ever been unappealing to him, not even when after Sybil's passing she had become startlingly thin. But, even more than in the past months when she'd started to look her usual self again, Robert found he liked this gentle softness to Cora's curves – no matter what the cause.

Robert sighed, hoping that today they would finally find out the cause. As anxious and worried as he was, and as confused and mentally exhausted as he was from attempting to keep himself from hoping his wife was expecting, he knew that Cora must be feeling it all a hundred fold. Not only that, but she had the fatigue of going through the symptoms themselves.

And he knew this day would be so much more difficult for them if they continued as they had the previous night. Especially if –

As noiselessly as possible, Robert inched his way to Cora's side of the bed. He slid one arm beneath her, wrapping both arms around her waist and resting his forehead between her shoulder blades. After a few moments he felt her body tense. She was awake.

"Robert, I –"

Simply the way she spoke his name indicated to him she had not forgotten her ire. Risking her further displeasure, Robert lifted his head and interrupted her. "Cora," he said in a soft voice, "Please, just listen to me for a moment." He felt her relax in his arms; taking this for acquiescence, he continued. "I know you're angry with me, as you have every right to be. But today – just for today – might you put it aside? I want to be able to hold your hand whilst we get through the hours on the train and the wait in the doctor's office and to be the shoulder you lean on if it doesn't turn out as we hope it will." He moved forward, his lips nearly touching her ear. "Please, do that for me. And not just for me. For you. I promise you can be as furious at me as you like tomorrow."

Cora stayed silent. As Robert began to wonder whether he should apologize again or simply roll back over to his side of the bed, Cora covered one of his hands with her own, and settled herself more comfortably against him.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he whispered, timidly nuzzling his face into her neck.

"Your whiskers tickle," she observed, her voice small.

He stilled. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

"No," she said. She squeezed his hand.

Robert nuzzled into her neck again, then placed tender kisses there as well. After a few of these, he realized she was shaking. "Cora?" When he drew back, she unexpectedly turned over to face him, her cheeks shining with tears. She touched his face.

"I'm so sorry, darling."

He slid his fingers into her hair at her temple, resting his palm upon her jaw and wiping away tears with his thumb. "Whatever for?" He wrapped his other arm tighter around her waist, pulling her closer.

Cora lowered her lashes. "I shouldn't have gotten so upset with you." She lifted her eyes to gaze at him. "I know you weren't keeping the letter from me; you were just waiting until the right time. Yes, you should have given it to me right away, but I understand why you didn't. And you apologized, and I didn't accept it..." She looked away again. "I'm sorry."

Even though her crying had ceased, Robert kept gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Darling, please don't apologize. I don't blame you for getting upset with me. But I'm happy if this means you've forgiven me for my mistake. Have you?"

Her eyes met his. "Oh, Robert. Yes, I forgive you."

Robert's lips curved slowly upward in a smile. "I love you."

Cora's hand slid from his cheek to the nape of his neck. "I love you, too." She pulled his head toward her and covered his lips with hers.

The kiss, at first gentle, quickly grew in fervor. Robert hesitated when he felt her fingers nimbly slipping the buttons of his night shirt from their holes. "Cora, we have to meet the train at eight," he reminded her as she moved her head down to kiss his neck.

She merely made a humming noise and parted the fabric of his night shirt. Just as he glanced up at the clock, deciding that perhaps they _might_ have enough time, Cora twirled her tongue around one of his nipples, and he gasped.

Time be damned.

Robert closed his eyes, remaining motionless as she cast her spell over him with lips and tongue. He groaned as his body responded to her attentions, moaning even louder as Cora's hand brushed against the front of his pajama pants. "Cora…" he breathed, unable to utter any other coherent syllables.

Sitting up, kneeling beside him on the bed, Cora tugged her night dress over her head and discarded it, then removed her undergarments. Robert watched her with a grin on his face, sitting up to do away with his own clothes.

But when he would have laid her back on the bed, she shook her head. "Lie down, darling."

Curious about what she had in mind, he stretched out again and followed her with his eyes as she straddled his hips and slowly, almost agonizingly for him, settled atop of him. Then she carefully leaned forward, unbending her knees at the same time, pivoting her body until her skin was completely flush with his, lying upon him – legs to legs and chest to chest. She grinned wickedly and began kissing him, teasing his lips with hers. After a moment of this, she started moving, using her forearms on either side of his chest to push herself up and down against his body.

A series of guttural sounds escaped Robert's throat at the potency of the sensations this created. He was awash in bliss, so far beyond rational thought that he didn't realize when he took hold of Cora's hips to help her increase the pace. Out of breath, Cora broke off their kiss, and stared into his eyes for a while before burrowing her head against his shoulder. Robert could feel her breath hot on his skin, and he knew it would take very little now to send him spiraling into an ecstatic oblivion. Finally – fortunately – he heard a series of sharp intakes of breath from Cora as she shuddered and tightened around him. Moaning his own release, Robert rubbed his hands over her bottom and then wrapped his arms around her back, panting.

Pressed against one another thus, each could feel the other's heart race from their pleasurable exertions. They lay there, grateful to float together on a sea of euphoria, to forget everything outside of the pair of them intertwined, at least for a handful of minutes.

Robert lifted his head enough to kiss her forehead. "Something else you learned from a book, I'll wager?"

Cora propped herself up on her elbows to grin at him, lightly stroking the silvery curls on his chest. "Don't tease me about those books."

"Darling, I never would," he looked momentarily hurt, then returned her grin. "What book?"

"Now what fun would it be if you knew? I like having my little secrets. That way I can keep you on your toes." She leaned forward to kiss him.

After a lengthy kiss, Robert chuckled. "Well, I do like you keeping me on my toes in such delightful ways." He moved his head to whisper huskily in her ear. "Let's remember that one."

Cora had started kissing his jaw again when, out of the corner of his eye, Robert noticed the clock.

"Cora! The time!" As she was still lying on top of him, Robert couldn't jump up out of bed. He did, however, inadvertently jostle her a bit in his struggle to sit up.

Glancing behind her at the clock, Cora's eyes grew wide, and she moved so he could get out of bed. "Robert, I meant to take a bath this morning, too. And now I actually need one…." She blushed a deep crimson.

Robert had already put most of his night clothes back on and was doing up his shirt buttons. "Cora, I'm sorry, I should have stopped us when I saw the time before…."

Cora shook her head, rummaging in her armoire for clothing to wear that day. "It's not your fault, Robert. We both got caught up." She cast a glance his way, meeting his eyes briefly. She grinned. "And it was quite marvelous, if you ask me." She pulled out a dress and lay it over a chair, shrugging. "I'll simply have to manage with a bird bath."

"I'm amazed we weren't interrupted." Robert tied his dressing gown and walked around to his wife. "I told Bates to meet me in my dressing room at –"

"What?" Cora hissed, almost running into him as she whirled around to face him. "He's been in your dressing room?" Her cheeks turned an even darker shade of red than before. "Robert, he probably didn't knock because he could hear us!"

"Darling, please calm down. Bates knows how to be discrete. He is my valet, after all, and you can't honestly imagine that he hasn't heard things before." Robert took her hands in his.

Pouting a little, Cora looked down. "Well, I suppose you're right, but I've never actually known about it."

"Cora, don't worry. All will be well." He bent his head down and kissed her briefly, then squeezed her hands. "Unless we don't make our train and miss your appointment. Let's hurry, my dear."

Nodding, Cora turned to go into the washroom. She jumped in astonishment when Robert smacked her on the behind. She looked around to where he was already hastening to his dressing room door. "Robert Crawley! That was completely unnecessary!" She feigned annoyance, albeit secretly pleased.

Robert paused by the door and waggled his eyebrows at her, smirking. "Oh, I don't know. I thought it a good idea."

Cora rolled her eyes at him and then laughed before disappearing into the washroom.

* * *

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" Robert's arm encircled her shoulders and his other hand pressed hers as they rode together from the London station to Harley Street.

Turning from where she'd been looking out the window, she gave him a small smile. "I'm nervous, Robert."

"About the examination?" He thought he knew the answer to this already.

Cora shook her head. "No. About what we'll be told after it."

Robert placed a soft kiss on her cheek. "Darling, whatever he says, it will be alright."

"I know." She held her gaze steadily on his face as the driver slowed the cab to stop in front of the office.

Taking his arm once they had gotten out of the cab, Cora walked with her husband into the building, listening as he told the receptionist who they were and that they had a one o'clock appointment. They sat down in the waiting room, Cora beginning to tremble.

Feeling this, Robert put his hand over hers, whispering, "All will be well, my love. All will be well." He realized he'd begun to repeat himself, but it was all he knew to say. He needed this reassurance as much as she did.

Cora merely nodded, her face pale and her eyes darting about the room. She nearly leapt out of her skin when a nurse called her name, and she clung to Robert as they followed her to a neatly appointed office on the second floor.

A dark-haired man with a mustache rose from his place behind the desk, smiling. He extended a hand to Robert as he walked toward the pair standing just inside the doorway. "Lord Grantham, how nice to meet you at last."

Robert shook his hand. "Dr. Ryder, thank you very much for seeing us today."

The doctor took Cora's hand and pressed it warmly. "And it's a pleasure to see you again, Lady Grantham."

Cora gave him an awkward, nervous smile, still clutching her husband's hand in her own.

Turning again to his desk, Dr. Ryder gathered a few papers together. Gesturing as he spoke, he addressed Robert. "I don't think the examination will take very long, Lord Grantham. You are welcome to sit" – indicating a few comfortable chairs facing the desk – "read..." He pointed at a newspaper on his desk and to a bookshelf on the wall. "And if you feel so inclined, there is a fully appointed drinks cabinet there. I keep it well stocked for anxious husbands." Giving Robert a smile, he then turned to Cora. "Lady Grantham, if you will accompany me to the examination room…." He crossed to the door and opened it, waiting for her to walk through.

Cora hesitated, facing Robert and looking up at him, squeezing his hand. "You'll be alright here?"

"Yes. Of course I will. And I'll be waiting right here when you're done." His expression was tender, far more concerned for her than for himself.

Giving him one last loving, nervous glance, Cora preceded the doctor into the hallway.

Dr. Ryder stopped a little way down the corridor, opening a second door for her. Cora remembered the exam room: the two parlor chairs by the window, the curtained off examination table, the sink and trays of instruments.

"Please, your ladyship, take a seat." He gestured toward one of the chairs. Seeing her pallor and her perceptible trembling, he smiled encouragingly. "You and I will have a chat before I examine you, Lady Grantham. Please." The doctor repeated the motion.

Cora sat gingerly on the edge of the chair. "Doctor, I want to tell you again how grateful we are for your seeing me on such short notice." She clasped her hands together in her lap.

Dr. Ryder took the second chair, making himself comfortable. Balancing his notebook containing her information on his legs, he pulled a pen from his coat pocket. "In light of your symptoms and your uncertainty, Lady Grantham, I thought it was best to see you as soon as possible." He perused his notes for a moment, then smiled at her, trying to put her more at ease. "Now I have a list here, things Lord Grantham told me when he telephoned yesterday. But I'd like to speak for a while with you. So tell me, your ladyship, how are you feeling?"

Returning his smile, she answered honestly, "Tired."

"Yes, he did mention that. I also understand that you've been experiencing nausea, increased appetite, hot flushes, as well as sudden changes of mood?"

Far from being clinical or aloof, the doctor's tone was conversational, curious. It soothed Cora's nerves a bit, and she began to relax. "That's right."

"What else would you consider out of the ordinary for you, Lady Grantham?"

Cora thought back over the past few weeks. "Well, I've been having very vivid dreams." She hesitated before adding a detail she wasn't sure would be relevant. "Many of them regarding children." Dr. Ryder nodded and made a note under the rest. Cora continued, "My husband tells me that I'm also fidgeting and kicking in my sleep. That I've been talking and crying out. I – I have done this before. When I was pregnant." She lowered her eyes, her trembling returning.

Dr. Ryder kept nodding and writing, then lifted his head. "And your monthly cycle?"

Coloring slightly, Cora responded, "Not for three months."

He made a note of this too before asking another question. "Lady Grantham, I know what I'm about to ask may seem unnecessarily personal, but how have relations with your husband been, say, in the past few weeks?"

"Relations?" What had been a faint pink in Cora's cheeks transformed quickly into a deep blush reaching from her hairline to her chest as his meaning dawned on her. "I'm not… I um… er, I don't see how…" she stammered, staring at him in surprise.

Her reaction left the doctor undaunted. "Yes, I know it seems unnecessary," he repeated, "but many women who experience menopause become, let's say, 'uninterested' in that aspect of their marriage."

Cora's blush remained as a grin played at the corners of her mouth. She looked away, unable to meet his eyes as she answered his question in nearly a whisper. "Well, doctor, I must say that my, er, 'interest' may have actually increased. Lord Grantham and I were in Venice recently, and it's a romantic place."

It was well that Cora wasn't looking at the doctor, for the ends of his mustache twitched slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Romance aside, Lady Grantham, most women begin to lose interest, not gain it."

Memories crowded into Cora's mind, and she couldn't help adding in the tiniest of whispers, "We broke a table. Also a chair, come to think of it…." She appeared to have forgotten where she was as her grin widened, speaking almost to herself. "And we nearly missed the train this morning…."

Dr. Ryder cleared his throat noisily, rather diverted by her digression, but unwilling to let her go any further, for fear she'd disclose something that might truly mortify her.

Brought out of her thoughts, Cora looked up and then immediately down again. "I'm sorry. Where were we?"

Smiling at her still flushed countenance, Dr. Ryder said, "I was about to ask if you'd seen a physician already, Lady Grantham. His lordship used the phrase 'second opinion,' but I did not request that he elaborate."

She raised her eyes to his once more, obviously relieved that he'd asked a less embarrassing question. "Yes, well, I consulted with our family physician, Dr. Clarkson, over the telephone."

Brows furrowing, Dr. Ryder asked, "He didn't give you a physical exam, your ladyship?"

"No. I… he wanted me to come in for one, to be honest." She looked down at her hands still clasped together in her lap. She hadn't told that part to Robert. "I didn't think it necessary. My age, you see – I felt certain it was 'the change.' Completely convinced, in fact. And Dr. Clarkson was inclined to agree." She looked up once more. "I hadn't thought about the – the other possibility until later that day." Fear and hope did battle on her face, in her eyes. "Lord Grantham is the one who suggested it might be… that I might be…."

The expression on the doctor's face was soft, understanding. "Well, we're going to examine you now." Setting the notebook aside, Dr. Ryder stood and went over to the sink, turning it on to wash his hands. "Your ladyship, if you would lie back on the exam table?"

Taking a deep breath, Cora got up and went to the table, noticing that her trembling had returned. She climbed up onto the table, her body feeling both light and heavy at the same time, her heart pounding so hard she was sure the doctor would be able to hear it.

As he dried his hands with a towel, Cora spoke again. "Doctor, might you wait to tell me the results? Until we rejoin my husband?"

Leaving the towel by the sink, Dr. Ryder walked over to the table. "Certainly, Lady Grantham. The examination shouldn't take very long." It was clear how anxious she was. He gave her a small smile. "Please, try to relax, your ladyship, and let me know if you feel any discomfort or pain."

Cora nodded before inhaling deeply and closing her eyes.

* * *

After watching the door close behind the doctor and his wife, Robert closed his eyes and let out a long breath, allowing his shoulders to hunch forward. He'd had to be strong for Cora, but now that she'd left his side, he felt his hands begin to shake. Crossing the room, he stared out the window onto the street below. That there could be people on the sidewalks, calmly going about their business, smiling and chatting and promenading, while his own heart thumped and head spun, astounded him.

He sat down on one of the chairs and picked up the newspaper. Several moments passed before he realized that he'd been staring blindly at the front page, not even focused enough to see the words, much less read them. He flung the paper on the desk and got up. He began to pace. Every few minutes he would pause to pull his watch out of his pocket and peer at it, wondering what could be taking so long, while at the same time marveling at how so little time had actually passed.

Finally he stopped in front of the drinks cabinet, scanning over the labels affixed to the various bottles. _I keep it well stocked for anxious husbands_, echoed Dr. Ryder's voice in his head. Letting out a bark of laughter, Robert murmured under his breath, "He most certainly does."

Becoming conscious once more of just how much his hands shook, Robert decided that there could be no harm in partaking in a small libation. In fact, it was doctor-approved for men in exactly his state of apprehension. _Who knows?_ he thought. _It could help calm me. It couldn't hurt. Just a small one._

Spotting a particularly good Scotch, Robert poured himself a generous amount, neat. He stood by the window once more, hoping to distract himself by watching passersby. He drank and watched and waited – and yet could not stop his stomach from performing elaborate flips or his mind from imagining all sorts of scenarios, both positive and negative.

Staring at the bottom of the empty glass, he decided he could take it no longer. The suspense was too much; he would go to the receptionist and see if she might tell him in which room the doctor was examining his wife.

Just as he turned on his heel to set his plan in action, the door to the office opened, admitting Cora and then Dr. Ryder. Robert's eyes met hers immediately, and he set the glass on the cabinet to hurry to her side, taking her hand in his. "Well?" he asked.

Cora squeezed his hand. She hadn't stopped trembling. "I told him not to tell me anything until he could tell us together."

He touched her cheek, his gaze blending tenderness and gratitude.

Dr. Ryder sat behind his desk, placing his notes neatly in front of him. "Please, Lord and Lady Grantham, do sit down."

Robert led his wife to a chair and waited until she was seated before sitting himself. He continued to hold her hand as they looked anxiously at the doctor.

The doctor clasped his hands together in front of him on the desk. "First of all, Lady Grantham, I'd like to assure you that you are not suffering from any form of illness or disease."

"Oh, thank God," Robert whispered, his grip on Cora's hand tightening a trifle. He had not completely put aside the notion that she could be ill, and at Dr. Ryder's words a wave of relief broke over him.

Cora fixed unblinking eyes on the doctor's face, holding her breath.

"Your ladyship, you will be going through quite a few changes in the coming months, but it is not '_the_ change.' And it is a good thing that you are not in any way ill, because good health will be necessary…" Dr. Ryder smiled widely as he said: "…for the healthy delivery of your baby."

"I… my… our…?" Cora looked at Robert in disbelief.

Robert had leaned against the chair back, stunned. Having spent so much energy endeavoring to keep himself from hoping that she was expecting, he had never allowed himself actually to believe it… and now – she was pregnant. He barely pulled himself together in time to hear the doctor say: "Congratulations, Lord and Lady Grantham. In approximately six months from now you'll be welcoming a new member to your family."

Turning to Cora, Robert saw that she was smiling and tears slid down her face. She looked… radiant. He found himself mirroring her smile, his own eyes growing moist.

Dr. Ryder collected the notes from his desk once more and stood. "I'll leave the two of you alone for just a while. Then we should discuss a few things together." Neither of them appeared to notice him, and he smiled to himself as he quietly slipped out of the room to give them some time to absorb the news.

"Robert," Cora said softly, her face completely alight, "we're going to have another baby."

"I can't quite take it in, Cora," he said, looking down and shaking his head, and then back up at her, his eyes bright with unreserved joy as the news began to finally sink in. "I hardly dared hope…. and now…." He took a deep breath, simply grinning at her.

"Now we're going to have another baby," she whispered again.

"Darling…." Robert stood and grasped both her hands, pulling her up out of the chair and into his embrace. He held her close, his heart leaping when she rested her head on his chest and sighed happily. "Another baby," he said, feeling tears escape his own eyes. "Sweetheart, I'm so very happy." After a few moments, he leaned back, putting a hand on either side of her face and lifting her head to look into her eyes. "How are you feeling?" he asked her.

"Happy, overjoyed, over the moon," she said, smiling. She lowered her lashes before adding, "…and a little bit terrified."

Robert bent down a little, wanting her to look at him again. "So am I," he said in a soft voice. Her gaze met his, and he repeated the words he'd used many times already that day: "All will be well." This time he truly believed them.

And as Robert looked at her with so much love shining from his face, and leaned down to press a soft kiss upon her lips, Cora started to believe them too.

* * *

When Dr. Ryder knocked upon the door a short time later, Robert drew his arms away from his wife's back, and she lifted her head from where it was resting comfortably upon his shoulder. For a while Cora had simply wanted to be held, to give her mind and heart a quiet few moments to wrap wholly around the news. And Robert wanted to do anything that made her happy – having been made so happy already himself.

Once Robert called to the doctor to enter, he took her hand once more and they sat down as Dr. Ryder resumed his place behind his desk. "I'd like to discuss a few details with you both, Lord and Lady Grantham, before you leave today." Seeing that he had their attention, he went on. "The main concern, naturally, is her ladyship's age. The older a woman is upon conceiving, the higher the risks for complications. And the higher the chance of multiple births as well."

"Multiple births?" Robert choked out as Cora queried nervously, "Complications?"

Dr. Ryder addressed Robert first. "Lord Grantham, it's too early to tell if there will be multiple births. But there is always that possibility. As for complications…" said the doctor, turning to Cora. "You are healthy and strong, your ladyship. There should be no reason that you cannot carry and bear a healthy child. I have attended a number of women in their forties and fifties who have had safe deliveries. That having been said, Lady Grantham, you will have to rest and take care of yourself. Worry should be kept at an absolute minimum. Any unnecessary anxiety or excessive stress can negatively affect the pregnancy. This is an important aspect that many expectant couples – at any age – often overlook."

Robert squeezed Cora's hand, looking at her rather than the doctor. "Dr. Ryder, I shall do everything in my power to make sure that there are no worries for my wife while she is expecting."

Cora turned and smiled at him, her eyes still faintly rimmed with red from her joyful tears.

"And if there is anything," Dr. Ryder said, waiting for Cora to look at him before continuing, "_anything_ that seems abnormal to you, Lady Grantham, I urge you most strongly to go and see your physician. You are also welcome to telephone here and consult with me, your ladyship." He glanced at Robert. "That applies to you as well, Lord Grantham. Now, are there any questions that you have for me?"

With her mind abuzz from the news, Cora couldn't think completely straight. She shook her head. "None that I can think of at the moment, Doctor. I may make use of your offer to let me telephone you later, however."

Robert nodded his head in agreement with his wife. "Perhaps when my mind is clearer, Dr. Ryder, I will have questions as well. But for now, I simply cannot express my gratitude to you well enough for seeing us today."

Dr. Ryder smiled amiably upon them both. "It has been my great pleasure to be able to give you this news. And might I congratulate you both again, Lord and Lady Grantham."

The three of them stood, the doctor ushering them out with a handshake for Robert, a press of Cora's hand, and further reminders to telephone any time they might have a question for him.

The pair walked out of the doctor's office and onto Harley Street. "We should have a celebratory luncheon, just the two of us, before we have to catch the train home," Cora suggested.

Robert looked at her, "And you must be hungry, darling, as we haven't eaten since our hurried breakfast."

She gave him a tender look, saying, "Not that hungry." An audible growl from her stomach belied her claim, and she laughed. "Well, I suppose I am. Or at least the baby is."

He beamed, his face awash in happiness at hearing her say "the baby." Robert steered his wife to a restaurant not too far from the doctor's office.

Delicious smells filled the air, and as they waited to be shown to a table Cora laughed lightly when her stomach gave another loud rumble. She put a hand over her abdomen and looked down, saying, "Hush now, you insistent darling. It won't be long now."

While Robert watched her, listened to her, he felt his heart might burst with utter love and joy, and he wanted nothing more than to pick her up in his arms and hug her. Instead he settled for taking her elbow and following behind the waiter as he showed them to their table, his cheeks beginning to hurt from grinning. He chuckled as she asked the waiter which dishes had eggs and then proceeded to order a nearly obscene amount of food.

After ordering something for himself, he took a sip of water and held his hand out to her across the table. "So it's eggs this time, is it?"

Cora put her hand in his and drew her brows together in confusion. "'This time'?"

"Yes. As I recall, with Edith you couldn't drink enough milk, and with Sybil there never seemed to be enough cheese in the house."

Thinking a moment, she started to laugh. "And with Mary I became inordinately fond of tomatoes."

Robert smiled at her tenderly. "Yes, I remember." He rubbed his thumb across her fingers. "How are you feeling, my love?"

Returning his smile, Cora responded, "Besides hungry and a bit tired?"

He held her gaze, still stroking her hand. "Yes, besides those two things."

"I'm ecstatic, Robert. I didn't think this would – could – happen for us again." Tears glistened on her lashes. "And you, my darling? Are you alright?"

Robert's smile widened. "I've never been more alright. I'm marvelous."

They grinned at one another until their order arrived. After they had eaten in silence for a while, Cora tucking into her food heartily and Robert watching her with a smile, Cora remembered a small matter she needed to address with him. Somewhat shyly, she remarked, "Darling, my dresses are getting uncomfortably tight. My dressmaker can let out some of them, but the others…." She looked down at her plate, thinking of the expense – and of the changes that would be happening to her appearance.

Robert lifted his head from his own plate, detecting that she felt somewhat anxious about bringing up this detail. He remembered watching the morning light play against her rounder curves. He then recalled that she hadn't worn the green dress from yesterday in well over a year, before grief and strain had taken its toll on her figure, suddenly understanding that she could wear it again because – well, because she was eating for two.

Suddenly Cora saw Robert's hand upon hers, felt the tenderness in his touch, and raised her eyes to his as he brought her hand to his lips across the table and kissed it gently. He was smiling at her as he said, "You shall have as many new dresses as you need or desire, sweetheart."

Blushing, Cora lowered her lashes as her husband kissed her hand once more, then released it so they could finish their luncheon. When they were finished, Robert helped Cora into a cab, telling the driver where to go and slipping his arm around her shoulders.

"What a difference a few hours can make!" Robert exclaimed, remembering their earlier cab ride from the London station to Harley Street.

"Yes, darling," Cora agreed, her eyes dancing. "Just think, in about six months time Sybbie will have a new aunt or uncle." She looked down, placing a gloved hand on her abdomen. When he didn't answer her, she glanced up again. He appeared uneasy. "Robert? What's wrong?"

He kept his eyes straight ahead, his face having gone rather pale. "Uncle."

Cora slid her hand in his. "That's right. Robert –"

She wasn't sure what to say. She didn't know what he was thinking. It could be many different things: a possible change in heir, Matthew's investment in the estate, the complications that could arise…. Or he could be remembering the son they had come so close to having and then lost.

Taking a deep breath, Cora put her other hand on his face and gently turned his head to look her in the eye. "Robert, it's nothing that we can know for certain until the baby arrives. For now, my love, can we leave that alone? Might we save serious discussion about implications and possibilities for later? Might tonight at least be for celebrating? For being happy?"

Robert felt moisture upon his cheeks as she spoke. She was right. All of that could wait. "Yes, Cora. Tonight is for celebrating." He smiled and kissed her, unmindful of the driver opening the door for them.

They boarded the train hand in hand. As soon as they sat down, Cora admitted she was very tired. "Then you should rest," Robert said, patting his leg. "Rest your head here, sweetheart."

Cora smiled at him and curled up on the seat, her head in his lap, and closed her eyes. He gazed upon her happy, peaceful face, bent down, and kissed her temple. Then he put an arm across hers, his hand over hers on her stomach, and with his other hand stroked her hair. Robert grinned to himself as he watched over his wife – his wife who carried their baby.

* * *

A/N: I do have a companion fic planned. If you love this story and want more, make sure you're following me as an author so you can get notified when the first chapter comes out! Thanks to everyone who has stayed with it all the way through, and extreme gratitude to those who have taken the time to leave reviews. I love all of you!


End file.
